Sk8r Boi
by Kyra Marie
Summary: Dancing is the only way for the skater to the ballerina's heart. Chapter 10: He's the one hurting everyone.
1. Remember the Name

**Sk8r Boi**

"_**He was a punk, she did ballet…"

* * *

**_

**Disclaimer**: The writer lawfully respects the prodigious work of Tachibana Higuchi.

**Author's Note**: I was undergoing major writer's block when I suddenly thought of this. I know, I know, it's crazy starting a new story when I still have three ongoing fics, but I simply can't resist. The setting is, obviously, not in Japan, since I don't think dancing is even _that _popular in some Asian countries. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this story albeit the very OOC condition. Inspired by Avril Lavigne's song, _Sk8r Boi_.

**Tagline:**

When you're not good enough for someone… what do you do?

**Précis:**

Dancing is the only way for the skater to the ballerina's heart.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Remember the Name**

"_This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill  
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will  
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain  
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!"

* * *

_

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Ballet Studio**_

"Yes, now, do a _pench__é__e_, dear… Perfect…and the final _relev__é_… _Wonderful_."

The brunette curtsied at her ballet instructor with a sweet smile, but eventually faltered when she turned away. Immediately, she untied and shook off her silver ballet slippers with a frown. She's been practicing for five hours straight for almost three months now; she felt determined to get the judges' attention. The silver color was starting to vanish from her shoes with all the straight performances she's been undergoing. If she keeps repeating her schedule, sooner or later her toes would start sticking out from the vamps.

But ballet's her passion; she's resolved to do _everything _and give up _anything _for her fervor. She turned down her suitors and declined other courses. Her whole future was set for dancing, and with her mother being the directress of the Academy, she has no problems fulfilling them.

"Nice job today, Mikan dear." Madame Adrienne declared with a sweet smile. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat and tight bun, adorned with a gold barrette. She was tall and was almost flat from bust to down; even so, the ballerina figure was still present despite her age.

"_Merci_, Madame Adrienne." The petite dancer smiled her thanks; she knew her instructors had high expectations for her.

Because on stage, Mikan Sakura is _the _ballet dancer.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio**_

_This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill  
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will  
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain  
And a hundred percent reason to rem—_

"STOP! What the hell are you doing?! This isn't High School Freaking Musical!" The maroon-haired man was close to exploding. His class is obviously not doing a good job at all. "Now do the routine _fifteen _times."

"Aw shit." A honey-colored-haired guy exclaimed from the middle formation. The aggravated man stared at him coldly, and he simply shrugged it off. "Seriously, we've been through this for a _million _times!"

"Apparently there are _some _people who still can't grasp the concept." The man replied rather bitterly as he glared daggers at the sandy-haired who was busy checking out the advanced female students. He rubbed his temples as he played the music again. "Bloody bastards."

"Damn hell Kistuneme you are in _crappy _trouble." A guy with dark hair sniggered at the latter, to whom the first was staring daggers at.

"Hey, Natsume," a blonde called after a bored-looking raven-haired, "heard there's a scholarship offered. Had a go?"

"I don't give a shit about those stuffs." The raven-haired replied rather acrimoniously, "You know that, Ruka."

The blonde shrugged, "C'mon, it's a once-in-a-life-time opportunity. You can get yourself and Aoi out of your hellholes."

"What can a freaking scholarship do, besides make me stay up late thinking of new moves? Go die."

Ruka sighed. It was hard making his best friend do something he resents.

"No talking!" the annoyed instructor bellowed from across the room, where he was busy correcting a couple of beginner's dance steps.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

The cafeteria was bustling with various students from various departments. In the middle of the vast refectory sat a group of ballerina dancers who were glumly staring at their meal: a small bowl of coleslaw.

"Don't you think the cabbage looks extra soggy today?" An emerald-eyed commented rather sarcastically as she raised a damp leafy vegetable from her bowl with a scowl. "Hurray."

The pink-haired frowned along with her. "At least make it _presentable_." Her topaz eyes gazed forlornly at the donut a girl on the other table was happily munching. She felt her throat go all dry; she hates ballerina diets.

"Hey guys, don't be so down!" someone suddenly said from the head of the table, "Look at the bright side; it's the start of the school year!"

The girl from earlier rolled her emerald eyes. "You're saying that even though you didn't even went through summer."

The pink-haired tore her gaze away from the donut and nodded vigorously. "Don't you even miss summer, Mikan?"

Mikan shook her head and explained in her oh-so-obvious voice. "Come on guys, ballet's my _whole _life."

"One day you are so going to crave for Paris."

"But I've been to Paris." She said rather perplexedly.

A composed sapphire-eyed raised her eyebrows as she abandoned her waterlogged salad. "Yeah, but you didn't go there for vacation."

"Isn't a recital one?"

"Oh, you're hopeless." She sighed at Mikan's opacity. She then glanced at her wristwatch, and motioned for the other four. "Let's go guys; the afternoon ceremony will start in a few."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater**_

"How's the speech going, Mikan?" a blonde man cheerfully asked the frazzled brunette who was profusely writing in a paper. She glared pointedly and menacingly at the asker and said,

"I'm doing _oh-so-well_, Mr. Narumi. All thanks to _you _who 'forgot' telling me about _this_."

Narumi grinned slyly, "Yes, well, excuse me for my carelessness. It won't happen again." He raised his right hand and then saluted.

"There better be _no _next times." She snarled with a fierce gaze, and then finally returned to her speech. She groaned, "Damn it. Where are your friends when you need them?!" She hastily wrote once again on her paper as she rubbed her temples. For a minute, she forgot the name of their Performing Arts President. _Great, _she thought_, what a perfect time to forget her name._

Hopeless and desperate, she turned to an unknown schoolmate who was sitting ahead of her. She tapped his shoulder, and the guy angrily turned to her with an angry, "Fuck?"

Mikan blinked. _How rude of him_, she thought, but then remembered that she needed something from this ill-mannered raven-haired. Ignoring his uncouth comment, she continued on her question, "Excuse me, and I'm sorry for disrupting you, but do you know who our Performing Arts President is?"

She didn't know if it was her imagination, but she saw the corners of his lips twitch for a second before replying, "Piggy Matsunoro."

Mikan swore it wasn't, so she asked again, "Are you sure?"

The guy motioned at her insolently, "You ask but you don't believe. Why bother, you stupid little brat."

"I'm not a brat," Mikan denied. She sighed, knowing that she, at the very least, should cut the guy some slack. "Alright, I'm sorry. Piggy Matsunoro it is…" _What a weird name_, she added to herself. "Thanks."

"Whatever brat."

Annoyed, she muttered as she turned back to her speech, "Insolent bastard."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater, Stage**_

"And now," Narumi declared as he beamed at the thousands of students before him, "I present to you this year's speaker, Mikan Sakura."

Claps and catcalls were heard from all over the theater, and the brunette proudly stood before the podium as she thanked everyone with a warm smile. "Thank you, and welcome to a new year here in Alice Academy of the Arts." She paused and performed a thorough glance on her paper. "AAA has been my training ground since I was a child. I started my first ballet lessons here and met many friends that, if not for them, I wouldn't even be standing here now." She quickly glimpsed at them in the front row, mentally warning them that it was not gratitude. "It fed me the prominence I wanted as a naïve and innocent lass. It provided my supreme necessitate and yearning to be someone eminent in the world of dancing.

Alice Academy of the Arts has given me more than I've ever wanted. I first came as a meager amateur, and, years later, here I am, standing before you, in a very composed and modish manner, welcoming you all to a new year that would soon be filled with ecstasy and congenial moments. I would also like to thank our performing arts president," she flashed a quick smile towards the cited, "who made our success possible the previous year. Thank you, Piggy Matsunoro."

The theater instantly snorted with laughter. Confused, Mikan looked around. Even her friends were trying hard not to laugh out loud. She noticed a figure fleeing out of the theater. From the corner of her eye, she noticed someone waving at her. Narumi was holding out a placard with a name vaguely readable, 'Penny Hatsuno'.

The name stuck on Mikan. _'Penny Hatsuno… Penny Hatsuno…' _ That was when it struck her.

Penny Hatsuno is the performing arts president. And Mikan Sakura just humiliated her in front of the whole academy.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Parking Lot**_

"UGH!" Mikan buried her face in both her hands as her now-messy hair reflected her chaotic state. _How can I be so reckless_, she thought infuriatingly, _I should've double-checked it!_

She heard whispers and sniggers concerning 'Piggy' as she walked towards her car; she felt a knife go through her heart. She didn't know people can be so cruel. Besides that, she also felt ashamed. Students kept pointing at her because of getting the name wrong. _Oh, if only Hotaru's here_, she wished intently.

She climbed on her Mercedes-Benz without waiting for her friends, as her usual routine. She has had enough of seven hours of hearing 'Peggy' and 'Mikan' straight; it's actually tiring, she must say. Why was—

"Koko, you son of a—"

_SCREECH_.

"— get back here and give me back that cookie!"

_CLANG._

"You bastard!"

_BAM._

"Go to hell!"

_BANG_.

"Oh my gosh!"

Mikan quickly went out of her Mercedes and stared ghastly at the large dent on its front hood. Her precious car now bears an enormous scratch from an unknown material. She angrily turned to the delinquent who destroyed her car, her long brown hair immediately falling down to her waist. She spat at the two guys who seemed amused at the outcome of their fooling around, "What on earth?!"

"Oh," a sandy-haired shoved his companion, a dark-haired guy with thin hair, on the ribs, "Isn't she Pinky or something?"

"Nah, I think it's more like Baby."

"Stupid," the former snorted and disagreed in a palpable manner, "you can't call someone baby."

"I ain't calling her baby." He suddenly winked at Mikan. "How's it goin'?"

Ignoring their little act, Mikan continued in an angry voice, "You just wrecked my car, in case you haven't noticed."

"Car?"

"Yes, _this _Mercedes was a gift to me, and you just wrecked it!"

"I'm not calling it a wreck, if you ask me."

The other nodded, "Doesn't look wrecked to me."

"Just a scratch."

"_Really _small scratch."

"Oh, 'm wrong, it's a _big _scratch."

"There's a dent, too."

"We did that?"

"Sure did."

"Ah well. Bye, Pinky."

With that, the two 'crooks' turned their back on her. Acting swiftly, Mikan roundhouse kicked them— a trick she learned in them midst of her ballet training. The two guys howled in pain; everyone was now looking at them.

Just then, the crowd parted like the sea did with Moses; only this time, it wasn't just "Moses", he was with "Aaron".

"Koko! Mochu!" a blonde called after them as he ran to their aid, abandoning the raven-haired guy he was with. "What have you two been up to this time?"

The dark-haired groaned as he clutched his stomach, "Sugar there booted us!"

Mikan stomped her right foot and pointed wrathfully at her two currently most-hated people in the whole world as she obstinately explained; "They wrecked my car!"

"It was a scratch!" The sandy-haired retorted as he continued whining.

"You call a _dent _a _scratch_?!"

"It's just a scratch," an annoyed unfamiliar voice piped in, "no need to scream."

She irately turned to the unwelcome speaker; she stopped, and gasped, "You!"

The raven-haired raised his eyebrows and asked just to wind her up, "Me?"

"_Yes_, _you_!" Mikan screamed as she pointed at the guy like a criminal caught in the act, "You were the one who told me that Penny's name is Piggy!"

He rolled his eyes; "Now I remember. You're that bratty idiot who didn't know the PA President."

"I am _not _a bratty idiot!" she gasped, "You— you— you—"

"Wonderful Bastard?" the sandy-haired supplied with a wide grin, completely dropping his act.

The dark-haired smirked, "Delicious Asshole?"

Mikan inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a while. When she flicked them open again, all four boys stared at her with raised eyebrows.

"The hell?"

She shook her head. "You people are _impossible_."

"How can they be impossible?" another voice piped in.

The two first guys slapped him in the backside, "How's it goin', Kitsu, my man?"

"We just saw each other ten minutes ago, Koko."

"Stop joking around. That was eleven minutes ago."

Mikan raised her hands, "Please don't forget the ballerina here!"

"You're a ballerina?" the newcomer asked.

"Of course I am." Mikan smiled with visible pride.

"So Pinky here's one of those uptight tights-lovers people?"

"Do _not _call me Pinky!"

"Who cares?"

"Whatever," Mikan sighed, "Will you _please _just take my car for fixing, please?"

Koko, the sandy-haired, now that Mikan recalled, sneered at her, "What makes you think we can send it for fixing?"

"Well, obviously because you're in the Alice Academy School of the Arts," Mikan rolled her eyes, "Duh, everyone knows this is like, the elite arts school."

"Look here ballerina," the raven-haired grabbed her wrist and stared at him with his piercing crimson eyes, "If you think we're some stuck-up rich snobby people like you are, you're wrong. Now run off and tell your mummy that your car met an accident."

Misinterpreting, Mikan continued to argue. "But my car _didn't _meet an accident. It met two bothersome and lackadaisical fools."

"Lacka-muchacha?" The dark-haired asked with his face all scrunched up.

Koko shrugged, "Hakuna matata?"

Mikan buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Hakuna matata means _no worries_, not careless."

"Why are treating yourself badly, then?" Mochu shook his head, "You could've say _careless_."

"I just did."

"No, you said _hakuna matata_."

"I didn't say _hakuna matata_, Koko Crunch did."

"Hey," Koko interrupted mulishly, "why am I the cereal mascot?"

"This conversation is going nowhere!" Mikan whined, "I just want my car _fixed_, now is that fine with you guys?"

"We're guys?" Kitsuneme asked loudly.

Koko shrugged, "She said so. I thought we're fools?"

Mochu shook his head, "No, we were fools two minutes ago. We're guys _now_."

"Oh shut up, all of you!" the crimson-eyed growled, making the three shiver in fright and Mikan blink confusingly. "Listen here, Barbie, and listen well," he motioned at Mikan as he grabbed her by the collar of her coat, "Run off and never cross paths with us again."

"My name is _not _Barbie." Mikan fumed, "It's Mikan Sakura."

He paused for a moment; they both started a glaring battle. Surprisingly, he suddenly smirked and brought his lips closer to her ear. "It's Natsume Hyuuga, and remember the name."

Mikan shoved herself away from Natsume with knife-like eyes. "Sure will, jerk-face."

She turned around and hopped in her car. The crowd started thinning as Mikan revved up her Mercedes.

"Come on you bastards," Natsume muttered, "Practice."


	2. Prelude in C Major

**Chapter 2: Prelude in C Major**

"_Who the hell is he anyway?  
He never really talks much  
Never concerned with status but still leavin' them star struck  
Humbled through opportunities given to him despite the fact  
That many misjudge him because he makes a livin' from writin' raps  
Put it together himself, now the picture connects  
Never askin' for someone's help, to get some respect  
He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach  
And now when it all unfolds, the skill of an artist."_

"_The world _is _unfair. Live with it."

* * *

_

_**Sakura Manor, Sitting Room**_

Worrying is bad for the health; everybody knows that. Mikan wonders why her mother doesn't think similarly as she.

"The _dent_, if you please! A _car _accident!" Yuka wailed as she circled around the room, waving her hands like crazy. "That's it! This is the last time you'll get a car!"

Mikan and Yuka had always been alike; same appearance, same personality. They're both blessed with shiny brown locks and a pair of enchanting chocolate eyes. They both have the same pleasing individuality and the sugary smile that can wipe anyone off their feet. They have a firm and resolute persona…

"But, Mom—"

…and the same pushy, stubborn attitude.

"No buts!" her mother cut her off tenaciously, "Do you realize how _very _close to death you were?!"

"Stop exaggerating, Mom, it was just a scratch—"

"You have a scratch?"

"NO, Mom," Mikan sighed exasperatedly, "my _car _has a scratch!"

"Still doesn't explain everything; your whole life would've been destroyed!"

"Mom it was _just _a scratch!"

"In exchange for your precious feet! Ballerinas _need _their feet!"

"Mom, stop it, I have my feet, I'm good."

"Did you check your pulse?"

"No— why would I check my pulse? Oh, never mind."

The statement itself declared that it was the end of their conversation; Mikan stomped out of the room, leaving Yuka still frantic. Quickly, she dialed her best friend's number as she proceeded to her room. It rang a couple of times before someone picked it up.

"Madame Adrienne's looking for you." came the receiver's sudden and passive voice.

Mikan blinked, completely forgetting what she was going to complain about. "Why is she looking for me?"

"You have— correction, _had _ballet practice."

Reality hit her, and Mikan slapped her forehead. "Oh damn."

"Madame Adrienne's ranting about how this is your first time to miss it. You owe me for getting stuck with stuck-up whining beginners."

"I'm really sorry, Hotaru, it's just that Peggy— I mean, Pinny— I mean—"

"Just get here Mikan." Hotaru cut her off with her typical voice. "Fast."

"Fine, but please wait for me?"

"You do know it's not going to be for free, don't you?"

Mikan rolled her eyes at Hotaru's distinctive behavior. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio**_

"Toprock, airflare," Reo bellowed as he circled around the room, "headspin, windmill… I said _windmill_, Koko… swipe, glide, one-hand freeze, jump, slide… Perfect!"

Most of the students cheered along with him, including Koko and Mochu. The kick they received earlier didn't help at all.

Koko groaned as he sat on the east side of the room. "Damn that girl can kick _hard_!"

Ruka shook his head, amused at his friend's suffering. "It's your fault for skating around the parking lot."

Koko threw a quivering finger at the crook."Mochu stole my food!"

"I only stole your food because you stole mine." Mochu pointed out as he plopped against the many duffel bags.

Koko shrugged, knowing he was right. He turned to his left, just in time seeing Kitsuneme empty his water bottle, thus earning a slap on the backside. "Dude, get your own bottle."

"I'm tired!" Kitsuneme wailed to defend himself.

"So am I, now give me back my water."

"You mean you want me to shit them out?" With a sly grin, Kitsuneme stood up and reached for his fly, only to be stopped by a disgusted Ruka. "Aw, I was getting some fun!"

"No," Koko muttered darkly, "It'll be hell when I see your Tweety."

"But Tweety's yellow—"

"Aw, shut it, will ya?" Mochu yelled as he stuffed his towel on his face. "You're grossing me out."

"You people are no fun." Kitsuneme muttered. He allowed his eyes to travel westward, where all the female break dancers rested. "All these fine girls are gettin' boring! I want new ones! I want fresh—"

_PLONK_.

"I'm shutting up now."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Ballet Studio**_

Mikan bit her lower lip as she cowered infront of Madame Adrienne.

"_Vous ne manquez pas la pratique_," she was saying in pure, flawless French, "and I am _greatly déçu_. You _levé_ twentybeginners and they ended up in Hotaru's _soin_!"

"You make it sound like it was a bad thing…" Hotaru muttered as she cracked her knuckles. Mikan was thankful Madame Adrienne missed it.

"_Je suis désolé_, Madame," Mikan managed to mumble, "Something came up."

"And what iz zat '_quelque chose_', I ask?" She crossed her arms and gave her an inquiring look.

"I thought I left my _pointe _shoes at home," Mikan fibbed, "I forgot it was in my locker."

"Tut, tut," the instructor shook her head, "Forgetfulness is not _assez raisonnable_. Be precise next time, _bien_? Two hours _valeur_."

"_Bien_." Mikan replied, and curtsied. She went for the barre and positioned herself. "Prelude in C Major, _svp_."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Parking Lot**_

"It was the most aggravating experience I've ever encountered in my whole life!" Mikan wailed as she and Hotaru made their way to their cars. It was twilight and Mikan just got released from ballet class; she was currently retelling the tale of her encounter with the 'crooks'.

"Yeah, I noticed that." Hotaru said sarcastically. "Now who were the guys again?"

"You're going to take them down for me?" Mikan said excitedly, her voice hopeful.

"No. They never did anything wrong to me."

Mikan pouted; her best friend can be so impossible. "Why do you want to know them anyways?"

"So the next time you babble I can ask them to wreck your car for me."

"Wow, thanks a lot, best friend." Mikan rolled her eyes. _Honestly_.

"Anytime, Mikan. Anytime."

_**

* * *

Hyuuga Residence**_

"You can't do a windmill while sliding."

"How would you know?! You've never done it before!"

"Stupid idiot, you'll break your neck."

"Do I look like I broke a neck?"

"No, but you sound like you lost your brain."

"Ha ha, really witty comeback, _brother_."

Natsume rubbed his temples, as he was close to exploding. He wondered what he had done to deserve a sister like her. He's not even sure if they were even biologically related in the first place; Aoi Hyuuga looked completely _nothing _like Natsume Hyuuga, except maybe their unique crimson eyes. Aoi sports her silver hair like priceless diamonds and is very extroverted— something that Natsume never really understood.

In the background, Koko found it hard to stifle his snicker. Kitsuneme suddenly burst out laughing out loud as he literally rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach.

_BOINK_.

"I won't wonder if you suddenly drop down laughing in the competition." Natsume snarled as Kitsuneme rubbed his head.

"Natsume, you bastard, the competition's not tomorrow!"

"And it's no reason for us to have _fun_."

"Seriously, dude," Koko whispered loudly towards Ruka, just to annoy Natsume, "You _have _to do something about that anti-social buddy of yours." Kitsuneme started laughing once again, and thus, earning another unknown object to land on his head.

"It wasn't me!" Kitsuneme wailed in pain. He angrily pointed a finger towards the boy beside him; "It was Koko!"

"You didn't here Koko laugh, did you?"

"Aw, shit this is such an unfair world!"

"The world _is _unfair. Live with it."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me." Kitsuneme rolled his eyes sarcastically.

_BAM_.

"I'm shuttin', I'm shuttin'!"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Class C-1**_

"You know what's bothering me?" Mikan asked her friends as she stared outside the room. It was the second day of school… for the normal students, that is.

An emerald-eyed replied blandly, knowing that the obstinate brunette wouldn't stop asking until answered. "What?"

"I've always wondered why we need homeroom since—"

"— nothing good ever happens anyway." The girl finished for her, catching Mikan by surprise.

"How did you—?"

"Oh, I dunno," she replied sarcastically, "maybe because you've been complaining about it for a decade?"

Mikan raised her eyebrows; "You're such an over-player, Sumire, you know that?"

"Now _I_'m the over-player?" she scoffed, "I'm not the one complaining about senseless stuffs for ten years."

"Fine, fine…" Mikan grumbled. "You win this time, but you so aren't going to next time."

"Oh, joy."

"Why don't you tell us about your car, Mikan?" Hotaru suddenly recommended who was seated ahead of them. She didn't even look up from the book she was holding. "Aren't you _dying _to tell them?"

"Ooh, let me commit the dying part…" Sumire muttered, earning hysterical giggles from the two girls behind.

"You just _have _to remind me, Hotaru." Mikan glared at her so-called best friend heatedly. "I hate _every drop of blood _from that bastard."

"Tell us, tell us!' squealed the two girls from before. Mikan gave them one fleeting look before sighing.

"Fine. Whatever. Doesn't really matter."

"So?" urged the two; it was actually starting to annoy Mikan, but, hey, they _are _her friends.

"Remember how I said Penny's name's Piggy? I was thinking about that the whole day like crazy and totally forgot about my ballet rehearsal. Then I stood in the parking lot when suddenly there was a riot and _bam! _there's a big dent on my Mercedes."

There was a moment's silence before Sumire spoke. "Congratulations."

"What's to congratulate about?"

Sumire thought for a moment. "Well for one thing, the guy might even be cute."

"Oh keep dreaming, Su, because that guy was so the opposite of _hot_. I mean," she made needless hand motions in the air, "he called me _Barbie_!"

"I don't know, Mikan, maybe because you're so thin."

"Barbie's not." Mikan said matter-of-factly. "She has a big butt. Totally not ballerina type."

"Who said Barbie's a ballerina?"

"Well, duh, I have one when I was, like, three-ish."

"Since when did you speak so…" Sumire chose her words carefully. "Luna-like?"

"No idea…" Mikan shrugged, completely unaffected by her question. "Maybe hearing her squeals in ballet rubbed on me for a bit."

"Ooh, Luna disease." The pink-haired of the two said.

"Luna-tastrophe." The other nodded in reply, seeming serious.

"_Bonjour, mes dears!_"

Mikan, along with some people from the rest of the class, groaned. She still haven't forgotten the whole 'Sorry-Mikan-I-forgot-to-tell-you-that-you're-the-speaker' crisis, and the fact that Mr. Narumi wails like a jubilant gay person served as the cherry of the pie.

"Why are you so lonely? You should've known that I'm your homeroom teacher this year as well." He said with a sly grin. Mikan had a feeling there was blackmailing included.

"Oh well," he continued when no one spoke, "I'll start the class with a roll call." He closed his eyes and covered them with one of his hand. Then, he started randomly pinpointing on his board.

"Imai, Hotaru?"

_BOINK_.

"Say 'Present', please."

_BOINK._

"That works to. Allen, Gabriella?"

Mikan rubbed her temples. She must've been someone pretty bad two hundred years ago to deserve something as cruel as what situation she was in. Her mom's a stubborn worrywart; her brother is an anti-social freak who looked nothing like her; her best friend's a vindictive sadist; her homeroom teacher's bisexual (_Probably_, she noted mentally) and her friends think that the cold-hearted guy she 'bumped' into yesterday was 'gorgeous.'

_Well he _does_ have cute eyes…_

The door suddenly slammed open, making Mikan jump back to reality… literally. Everyone tried to get a good look of the figures under the door jamb except for two people— Hotaru who simply raised her eyebrows and Mr. Narumi who remained his unruffled and slapdash look. Five boys condescendingly entered the classroom in baggy street clothes— the type of clothing that will make her mother faint…not that she won't be quite grateful for that in the first place, that is.

She did her own inventory as the world suddenly seemed to stop to help her recognize the late comers. She paused and her inner self started screaming hysterically like it was the end of the world.

_Crap._

"Hey, look!" Koko suddenly said as me grinned, pointing at Mikan. "It's Sugar!"

_Of all the rotten luck_.

"Hey Barbie." Mochu winked at her, while Kitsuneme just sniggered.

_Whoever's up there must hate me a lot._

"Spoiled brat."

_Stupid bastard._

Doesn't mean everybody agrees with her.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Narumi smiled as if the boys did not disturb the session at all. "Class, I would like you to meet your new… _classmates _from now on."

"They can't be our classmates!" Mikan stood up, looking exactly disheveled for the first time that day. "Class C-1 is a class for Senior Professionals! Just what _professionalism _do these… _people _have? They certainly do not belong with _us _C Majors!"

"Mikan!" she heard someone hiss. Mikan turned to Sumire in a quizzical manner.

"What?"

"Sit down" Sumire mouthed, her face urgent.

"Not until I have my say!"

"Just freaking sit down!"

When Mikan did so, Sumire filled her in. When she was done, she gaped at the five 'problem students'.

_Can my life get any worse?_

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

"Seriously, Mikan," the pink-haired asked, "you honestly have _no _idea who those people are?"

"Don't. Rub. It. In." she snarled as she played with their ballerinas-only diet for the day: three sticks of carrot and a leek of celery.

"Mikan." Hotaru growled, "Of all the people you could've meet, you just _have _to meet the most dangerous ones."

"You know what?" she crossed her arms, "I think you guys are overreacting. Those… _people _can't be _that _bad."

"Says the person who got her car wrecked."

"Har har." Mikan rolled her eyes. She pushed away her lunch tray; she didn't feel like eating carrots today. "Tell me more about these 'troublemakers' that you address."

"Mikan—"

"Anna—" Mikan cut off the pink-haired girl before she can even get on.

Anna bit her lip. "Right, they're not actually _that _bad—"

"Anna," the composed sapphire-eyed said, "Weren't they the ones who almost got you killed?"

"WHAT?!" Mikan suddenly stood up, making Hotaru glare at her crossly for almost spilling out her daily supply of crab roe. She didn't care, which is actually saying something.

"Oh, we never told you?"

"Nonoko!"

"Right, right." She rolled her sapphire eyes. "Obviously so."

"Will you just get on, please?"

"I think it was their first day here—"

"Yeah," Anna continued, "I don't think they were familiar with the rules either—"

"—or the proper etiquette."

"To put it mildly, they're newcomers. You know Natsume, right?"

"The one with those creepy red eyes?"

"Boo-yah."

"Seriously, it's creepy. Who would want red eyes anyway?"

"Ditto."

"Anyway," Nonoko continued off-handedly, "he's like, the leader of their little group."

"I heard they're not really with us in terms of social status." Anna whispered quietly, as if afraid that the cited might hear.

"Then how come they're even here?" Mikan asked, thoroughly perplexed. "Alice Academy of the Arts is an elite school for the Performing Arts, exclusively for the rich and famous. Just how did five ghetto boys got in? With the strict administration, it's quite impossible; everyone knows that."

"We're getting there," Nonoko said. "Anna and I heard loud music blaring from the HH studio."

"I was curious, you can't blame me!" Anna defended herself needlessly. "I left Nonoko and leaned on the door. The music stopped; I guess they were trying to drown their shouts with the loud sounds. I think the stereo got hit or something. One was yelling about 'that stupid tycoon' and the other was saying, 'be grateful we're here' or something like that."

"Sadly, though," Nonoko cleared her throat. "The door was _slightly _ajar."

"And unfortunately, my ballerina figure wasn't much help either. When the voices started to get quieter and quieter, I leaned in closer."

"The door opened."

"The one with red eyes stared at me like I just committed a serial crime."

Anna paused. Hotaru remained indifferent; with all her sources, she probably even got to see the real thing. Sumire was unmoving, and Mikan asked, "Well? What happened with the almost-dying part?"

"That was it."

"That was what?"

"The almost-dying part."

"How can be that the almost-dying part? He didn't do anything."

"He did. He stared at me."

"How can that be deadly?"

"Because two of his friends pushed me."

"Where?"

"Further inside."

"And?"

"Warned me."

"What did he say?"

"'Whatever you heard stays here.'"

"That was it?"

"That was all."

"No… assaulting or anything?"

"I think they were about to, but the studio door suddenly opened. I took that chance and ran outside."

Sumire raised her eyebrows. "How can that be an almost-dying experience?"

"Did we say anything about a near-death?"

"Isn't that why you're telling the story in the first place?"

"We didn't mean it literally. Those eyes are quite gorgeous, by the way."

"But didn't you—?"

"Didn't I what?" Anna asked the brunette questionably.

Mikan shook her head. "Nothing, nothing." She then leaned closer to Sumire. "I think that was a pointless conversation, wasn't it?"

"You think?"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio**_

_Who the hell is he anyway?  
He never really talks much  
_

Natsume looked passive as usual; he yawned as he performed a harlem shake. Everyone, besides his friends and Reo, paused and looked at him in awe. He glided and slid on the floor like a slick snake; no doubt that he's a skilled natural.

_Never concerned with status but still leavin' them star struck  
Humbled through opportunities given to him despite the fact  
That many misjudge him because he makes a livin' from writin' raps_

Nevertheless, Natsume remained his blasé persona albeit the unwanted attention— something he never really liked since before. He's standoffish, he admits, though not aloud. His only desire in life is to see happy Aoi; that was it, and he can go back to hell.

_  
Put it together himself, now the picture connects  
Never askin' for someone's help, to get some respect  
He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach  
And now when it all unfolds, the skill of an artist._

"The hell?" Reo's voice echoed in the room after pressing the stop button. "Why are there only two people dancing?!"

From the middle of the mat, Ruka threw a traitorous glance towards Mochu, Koko and Kitsuneme who were sprawled in the floor, panting madly. The three pointed at each other and defended themselves in unison, "They sat down!"

"The championship is around the corner!" Reo bellowed as he scolded at them. "You won't impress Del Mak by lyin' on the dance floor! Get your lazy arses up!"

Natsume smirked.


	3. Right Round

**Chapter 3: Right Round**

"_But I'm king of the club  
And I'm wearin' the crown."  
_

"_I can show you more than I can tell you."_

_**

* * *

Hyuuga Residence**_

_Walk out my house with my swagger  
Hop in that with dough, I got places to go!  
People to see, time is precious  
I looked at my cotty, are ya outta control  
Just like my mind where I'm going  
No women, no__—_

"Damnit, Aoi," Natsume growled as he snapped his eyes open, evilly staring right at his sister's eyes, "I was listening to that!"

"You lazy moron," Aoi rolled her eyes as she twirled her brother's earphones around just to annoy him more. "I'm bored."

"So what?" he asked in a jaded tone as he closed his eyes.

"Oh you are so hopeless!" She plopped down on the bed, taking up most of the space.

"Get out of my room. Which reminds me, you didn't knock."

"Please. No one knocks these days."

"You knock on your brother's door out of respect."

"Too bad I don't have any for you."

Natsume smirked. _So it's the old game, huh?_ "You never know. I might be shaggin' some girl."

"Gross." Aoi pretended to vomit and clutched her abdomen. "No need for that info, please."

"You asked for it."

"No, I asked for something to do, not to have a spitting dirty image of my brother making out with a prostitute."

"I didn't say anything about a prostitute."

"Like anyone besides a prostitute can stand you." She explained in an impassive voice. "Everyone who knows we live in this shack worships you like Adonis, but they all treat you like a _little _brother."

"No one said about _little_, Kelly."

"Yuck." Aoi stuck her tongue out at him at the mention of her most-hated name. "Kelly's so last millennium. I never liked that fat doll anyways."

"Then what's a Kelly doing in your closet?"

"You snooping bigheaded moron!"

"Right back at ya."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Parking Lot**_

He zoomed down the handrail and performed a perfect ollie without a sweat. He circled around the cars and flawlessly avoided every corner by a simple bend. There weren't many students yet since it was still a bit early. In the background, his friends cheered, until an almost-balding guy in his forties stopped him with a holler that echoed across the vast parking lot of Alice Academy.

"Natsume Hyuuga!"

Natsume rolled his eyes, _Not that bloody crackpot old fool again_.

"What?" Natsume asked sneeringly as he skated towards the said man with his usual impassive face.

"How many times do I have to remind you that you are _not_, I repeat, _not_, allowed to put your life in mortal danger?!"

"How can skateboarding be a way of putting killing yourself?" Koko piped in as he defended his 'leader', "What are skateboards for?"

"Those _shakeboards_ you speak of—"

"Skateboards," Kitsuneme coughed as the rest sniggered.

The man fumbled with his glasses in embarrassment, "Yes, _skateboards_, like I said many times before, are only for _low-lives_ and _amateurish_ teenagers. You… _men_ are studying in an Academy, and we do not tolerate this type of behavior!"

"Yeah, yeah," Natsume snorted, "You done now, old man?"

"Natsume Hyuuga—"

"I am _very _sorry about my friend's manner, sir," Ruka suddenly interrupted as he pushed his best friend away and glared before returning back to the principal.

Mochu then took over. "You see, he is not in the best state at this moment, and if we're to talk about it, maybe in some other time when he is not hiding a box cut— hiding a boxed… cat."

The principal raised his eyebrows. "Boxed cat?"

"It's…" Mochu glanced at the others, two of whom were sending daggers at him while the other two grinning wide. "A gift for his sister, but it died when we brought it home. It was… dizzy, yeah, dizzy, during the ride. That's why he sounds a bit high."

"I— I see." The principal replied. "Well then, Mr. Hyuuga, my sympathy to the cat." With that, he walked off with a rather bemused look.

Ruka turned to him with a weary face. "Boxed cat? Mochu, you wanker, what the bloody hell were you saying?"

Mochu shrugged with his usual grin. "What? I can't tell him Natsume has a box cutter. But we got him off, didn't we?"

"Yeah, with the idea of a _boxed cat_." Natsume snorted. "Did you even realize that a cat, or any animal for that matter, is going to die if you're going to keep it in a box?"

Mochu thought for a little. "Oh what the hell, we got away. Now let's do some serious skateboardin'!"

Glare.

"Or not."

_Bam._

"_That's _for the boxed cat."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Class C-1**_

"I've been wondering," Mikan mused out loud, "Have the Academy ever thought of mixing classes together?"

"Don't think, idiot." Hotaru said as she burst her dream bubble. "The whole of Europe will be in a shambolic state."

"Not if the leaders are responsible and dependent and—"

"— and is Hotaru Imai."

"You are so proud, Hotaru." Mikan commented. "But that's not a bad idea. We need a thousand of you in this Academy."

"No, Mikan." Sumire said firmly as she sat beside her. "One Hotaru Imai is enough, thank you very much."

"I think it's brill." Mikan stubbornly insisted. "I'll certainly propose this idea to Mr. Narumi."

"After the aggro thing he caused you?" Sumire raised her brows.

Mikan rolled her eyes. "So maybe I still haven't forgotten about that yet, and you just have to remind me."

"Put a sock in it."

"But—"

"_Hallo, meine Bonbons_!"

Sumire groaned. Mr. Narumi entered the room in maroon medieval clothing. "We'll be skipping homeroom and go straight to Literature. Cracking idea, no?"

"Please tell me this is not blooming happening."

Mikan glared at the newcomers. Unsurprisingly, she found her five most-hated people in the whole world. How she greatly despise each one of them.

Koko was currently having a fit as he rudely pointed at Mr. Narumi's clothing. "He's in a _dress_!"

"He is in a _mod coat_¸ you poof."

Mikan scolded her emerald-eyed friend. "Sumire!" On the other hand, their teacher didn't mind the bickering they were having; in fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Now, now," Koko raised his hands, "I'm not the poof here. It's that teacher."

"Actually," Kitsuneme butted in, "I think our 'teacher' here is a real live Nancy boy. Know what I mean?" He nudged Koko who confusingly shook his head and answered,

"No."

"Oh." He blinked. "I don't either."

"Well then," Mr. Narumi said as he cleared his throat, "Now that we're all present, I think we should start on the serious things."

"Serious?" Hotaru actually snorted.

"_The _season is fast approaching, and I'm encouraging everyone to take part in whichever Performing Arts class they belong into."

"I'm gormless." Mikan declared loudly, earning a silent "Of course you are" from Natsume. She glared at him before turning back to the teacher.

"— and the Academy— well actually, I, have thought of probably doing something that will showcase our students talents."

"What is this, Royal Dance Academy?" A random guy hollered from in front.

Completely ignoring the rude disruptions, he continued, "I simply just want to remind everybody that participating is mandatory, and whoever does not join shall spend a month with me in detention."

Most of the students shivered; they all knew Mr. Narumi's idea of 'detention'. One hour with him is enough to drive anyone mad.

Koko eagerly raised his hand and spoke without being addressed. "Are we getting a prize for this? Like, free lunch to Burger King?"

Almost every normal (normal in the eyes of them C Majors, as they fondly call themselves) person in class snorted. "Burger King?" some actually managed to say out loud.

Kitsuneme, meanwhile, along with Koko, looked extremely puzzled. "What's up with Burger King?"

Nonoko shook her head. "Those stuffs are full of calories. We don't eat that. We _can't _eat that."

"But what's a burger? I mean, the Double Whopper is _the _best, I'm telling ya, and those fries!"

"Exactly."

"But—"

"Moving on," Mr. Narumi interrupted with his pathetic grin, "I think we— meaning _our class_— should join the Theater Class with the play."

Silence.

"Say what?!"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Scenic Art Class**_

"Honestly, that teacher is _insane_!"

"Tell me about it."

"I mean—" Sumire flapped her arms around, "Really! Forcing us to join the theater league! I've never heard of _such _an idea!"

Mikan sympathized with her friend and nodded solemnly since the last five minutes. "He thinks we're so contingent, eh? I'll show him what he made us do."

"Ditto, mate."

Hotaru rolled her eyes at the two. "I'll give anything to shut you two up."

"Oh please, Hotaru, don't tell me you're not depressed?" Mikan raised a brow.

The stoic girl, meanwhile, simply shrugged her quest off, held out her SLR and said, "The Art of Blackmailing."

Mikan and Sumire glanced at each other before turning their attention back at the so-called Ice Queen. _Typical_, they thought irreverently.

"I wonder how Anna and Nonoko are holding up?" Mikan asked, changing the subject. "Double Lit. I pity them."

"We have double Literature every Fridays, have you forgotten?" Sumire pointed out.

Mikan rolled her eyes, "Mr. Narumi's usually on leave during Fridays. Take it from someone who knows."

"Of course." Sumire scoffed. "Two double Lit last year paid off then?"

"Just the schedule part. Anyways," she flipped her hair and gazed at the door to check if Ms. Serina has entered yet. "God knows how I'll survive. I have three more recitals, a competition to panic about, and I'm now topping it off with this un-brill idea of Mr. N's. I mean, we _dance_, we don't _act_."

"He's crazy," Hotaru stated in an annoyed voice, "Now will you _please _shut up?"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

"Where's Natsume?" Ruka asked as he sat down with the Terrible Trio. "I thought he'll be first here." With that, Koko guffawed and slapped Kitsuneme's backside. "What?" Ruka asked, utterly confused.

He shook his head and dug his hand in the bag for some chips. "Me man's giving us some surprise."

Ruka blinked and froze. "Surprise?"

Koko smirked and Kitsuneme nodded eagerly. "Yeah."

"Koko had a bet with him during Lit," Mochu explained, "Natsume lost because he didn't feel like turning in an essay."

"And what exactly is Natsume going to do?" Ruka looked almost afraid, though a bit exasperated. He knew Koko's consequences all to well— they're not bad, but they always attract attention. He remembered someone causing a humongous ruckus with the syndicates a few years back— unsurprisingly, due to a bet he lost with Koko.

"But I think Koko only won because Natsume's bored," Kitsuneme grinned, "Let's face it, the King doesn't lose to any old bet, especially with Koko."

Ruka shrugged. "I s'pose." Still, he couldn't wave away the thought of Koko's bet…

_SLAM_.

Immediately, everyone's eyes wandered to the door— only whoever used to be there wasn't there anymore. Suddenly, something flashed from the door to the cafeteria. Like lightning, Natsume burst inside in his skateboard and glided around the room. He moved so fast that you can barely follow him; he circled around the cafeteria thrice before coming to a stop infront of their table. He smirked at Koko and plopped down one foot on the table, "How was that?"

Koko shook his awe away from his face at Natsume's audacity. "Not enough, dude. Still doesn't make up for that unhanded essay." Natsume merely shrugged, and Koko took this as a sign of defeat. "Ha! I knew it! I won!" He did a weird Indian dance that earned uncanny looks from those around them. "Take that, Mochu! You owe me ten!" Natsume raised his eyebrows and popped his bubble,

"What makes you think you won?"

Koko blinked. "But— but—"

"I'm taking a break."

"But—"

"Pass me that soda."

"But—"

"Sorry, mate," Mochu grinned, "Guess I'm keeping the ten, then."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Integral Calculus Class**_

"Don't worry, Mikan," the brunette muttered to herself as she plopped down on a vacant seat, "Just one more school year and you're free from Calculus." _One more hour and you're back in ballet class,_ she added to herself.

"So the ballerina really is stupid." Mikan turned to the speaker, only to find herself drowning in the most alluring crimson eyes she wondered why she never took much notice of before. "I know I'm handsome, _Mademoiselle, _but you don't need to stare. People might get the wrong impression."

Mikan immediately snapped back from her daze and furiously shot dagger looks towards the smirking Natsume. "No need to be arrogant about it… _Sir_." She turned her back on him and tried to distract herself by putting her full attention out the window. She was surprised, however, when she felt someone take the seat beside her. "What—?"

Natsume smirked. "_Bonjour_." He greeted her in a perfect French accent, making Mikan wonder if he really was an uneducated delinquent. Just then, the door opened and the famous cold-hearted head teacher entered. As the class settled down without order, Mikan started wondering why on earth she has to get the worst math teacher in the whole Academy.

"You are here to learn about a subtle and complex subject that constitutes a major part of modern university education." The strict teacher started as he eyed each student with his piercing eyes underneath his glasses. "There will be no foolish games here in my class, and those who don't have what it takes to get through the year may as well get out of the room."

There was a moment's silence and the class remained inert; the teacher continued. "First: the rules."

"_What do you think you're playing at?_" Mikan swiftly wrote on a piece of paper, all the while stealing glances at their math teacher.

The answer came back faster than she expected.

"_I am merely being myself, Mademoiselle."_

Mikan had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Before replying, she took a quick look once again to her teacher who was now explaining the third rule. "_Why are you even in my class, anyway?_"

"_Don't blame it on me_," he had wrote, "_It's the school administration's fault. They just knew there's some sort of chemistry that will work between us._"

"_Har, har,_" Mikan drew a pair of unmoving yet supposedly rolling eyes with her respond, "_Let me guess. Should I curse Mr. Narumi to the deepest pits of hell?_" She didn't know talking to Natsume can be quite compelling all the same, and waited tolerantly for his response.

"_Something similar, but more supreme—it's boring me more than Calculus, so, hey, that's a surprise._"

"_You hate Calculus? Why am I not surprised._"

"_I'm sorry to say, Mademoiselle,_" Mikan bit back the urge to laugh at the absurdity of his words, "_but I, unlike you, can do Math. I simply find it mind-numbing."_

"_What, you're saying I can't do Math?_" From the corner of her eye, she noticed Natsume lucratively roll his eyes without getting caught. She immediately drew two lines across her previous sentence and wrote a new one. "_Fine, so maybe I'm not the class Einsteinette in the field, but who says you can do better?_"

"_I got the test scores to prove it_" was his arrogant written answer. Mikan shook her head and wrote,

"_You? Test scores? You don't even study._"

"_Of course I have,_" he replied,"_otherwise I won't be a senior. I just don't like school._"

Mikan nodded solemnly. "_Thought so._"

"_Now what's with you?_"

"_What do you mean, what's with me?_"

"_You're the one who started passing me notes._"

Catching his thoughts, Mikan wrote her explanation profusely. "_Just so you know, Monsieur, I simply wanted to ask what your problem is, so don't get your expectations high that I want to talk to you, which is not really possible unless important because, actually, my number one rule in 'Ways to Live a Peaceful Life' is to never talk to any unrelated and rumored to be dangerous person, which, by the way, if you still haven't noticed, is you._"

"_That was a long reply_," he had inscribed, "_I was only asking. Now you're giving me the impression that you actually like me for being overly defensive._"

"_What is with you?_"

"_As I said before, Mademoiselle, I am merely being myself._" Mikan drew an arrow from the word _Mademoiselle _and wrote, "_What, acting imperially now, aren't we?_"

"_Alas, I am." _He added preceding an afterthought, _"Jesus. That sounded bad._"

"_Glad you're finally catching up, Monsieur._"

"_What, you're free to say all the pleasantries and I have to act stuck-up and rude? Isn't that the female's job?_"

"_Saddle up, mate, it sounds better when I say it._"

"_I have to say, I guess it does… Barbie._"

"_Here we bloody go again._"

"_Little Miss Ballerina can curse?_"

"_There are lots of things you don't know about Little Miss Ballerina, Skater Boy._"

"And what _pleasure _it is to be blessed with your companies, Miss Sakura, Mister Hyuuga."

Mikan and Natsume both looked up at the same time to face their vile math teacher. "Detention, after class."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Detention Room**_

"I've only been in this room once," Mikan explained as she sat on a vacant seat by the window.

"Tell me more about the ballerina, then." Natsume said. He threw his bag on the floor and sat on Mikan's desk.

Mikan thought for a minute. "Unsurprisingly, it was Mr. Jinno who sent me here."

"Who's that?"

Mikan rolled her eyes liberally. "Didn't you even glance at your schedule? Or did you just happen to skate your way inside? Mr. Jin-Jin's the freaky math teacher. Anyways," she continued, "Luna, who's also, sadly, in the same ballet class as I am, started this rumor that I called him a frog-loving creep and that he kisses and sings his frogs to sleep. As much as I really want to start the rumor, Luna got ahead of me and put all the blame on _moi_."

"And is this Runa—"

"Luna."

"Whatever. Is she blonde and wears awfully flashy colors of the rainbow?"

"Right." Mikan prompted, looking impressed. "You know, you're actually pretty good at this."

"Of course I am."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her legs as she stared back at Natsume. "Cocky moron."

He smirked in reply and mocked her voice, "Egotistical brat."

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down._

"What's that?" Mikan asked, extremely puzzled by the sudden music.

"It's my phone." Natsume replied, pulling out a Memoir from his pocket. Mikan wondered how he got such a phone. He sneered at the message and explained to the bamboozled brunette, "Reo's freaking out. Ruka says he's more heated up than usual."

"Reo?" Mikan became more confused, if that was even possible.

Natsume shrugged. "The Double H dance instructor?"

"Whoa," she formed her mouth to a large 'O'. "I can't even address Mr. Jinno by Jin-Jin alone, and here you are, barely three months from school since last school year, calling teachers by their first name. You are un-bloody-lievable."

Natsume smirked and imitated her sentence from earlier. "There are a lot of things you don't know about Skater Boy, Little Miss Ballerina."

"Care to tell me more, SB?"

He cocked an eyebrow; the smirk still visible in his face. "I can show you more than I can tell you."

He flipped his phone open and played his ring tone.

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down_

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down _

He glided on the floor and moved swiftly like a puppet; Mikan had never seen a break dancer up close— literally being slick as he slither and skate, his feet shifting swiftly and his hands moving liberally. He stirred so fast that Mikan find it quite impossible to even follow his every movement.

_We building castles that's made out of sand  
She's amazing, the fire blazing  
Hotter than Cajun  
Girl won't you move a lil closer?_

Mikan had to admit: Natsume is one hell of a dancer. He's arrogant, uncouth, and can be very inconsiderate… but these are the things that, she admits, are what makes him lone in her mind. She'd never noticed it much before, but Natsume gives her this kind of feeling that just seems to make all her hitches vanish.

_I watch her go down  
She got me throwin my money around  
Ain't nothin more beautiful to be found  
It's goin down down_

Now she comes to think of it, she doesn't really mind being in detention with Natsume. _He's a really nice guy_, she had thought, _Maybe he's just lonely_.

_I'm spendin' my money  
I'm out of control  
Somebody help me  
She's takin' my bank roll.  
But I'm king of the club  
And I'm wearin' the crown_

_Yes_, Mikan silently agreed to the song as she continued watching Natsume shift his feet speedily, _He is indeed_. She didn't even complain about how loud the song was blaring on her ears.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Ballet Studio**_

"Nonoko Osagawara?" Madame Adrienne called after as she ticked her board. She looked up just as Sumire raised her right hand with a furry, "Present".

"Mikan Sakura?" There was no reply. Unbelieving that her best student missed a lesson again, she called her again, "Mikan Sakura?" Still, there was no reply. "Has anyone seen Mikan? Come on, everyone, who was the last one who've seen Mikan?"

A high, shrill voice answered Madame Adrienne's question. "I heard Mikan received detention, Madame… with Natsume Hyuuga."

Hotaru, who remained silent throughout the roll call, perked her ears. She raised her eyebrows at the blonde speaker who was currently explaining what she'd found out to the instructor. Sumire leaned closer to her and asked, "Is it true?"

"She's always right," Anna reckoned as she joined the conversation uninvited, "only there are always exaggerations."

Nonoko scoffed, "Emphasis on the word '_always_'."

"Mikan's not the kind of person who'll skip her favorite class in school," Sumire explained in an airy voice, "even if he's the most handsome guy on earth."

"Oh, please, Su," Anna said, "You're the only one who thinks that." Sumire shrugged in return as if to ask, _What_?

"That's right, Luna…" Hotaru was muttering from behind, her sudden voice surprising them. "Now go on and ask about the recital."

As if on cue, the blonde smiled wickedly and glanced once at Hotaru and the others before talking to Madame Adrienne. "I don't think Sakura is being a _very good _example towards the beginners, Madame. I personally think that she won't be in pretty good shape during her recital if she keeps skipping practices… moreover, with a guy."

Sumire rolled her eyes while Anna and Nonoko giggled. Hotaru remained impassive and refused to hear another word from Luna, thus turning her back on everyone and practiced her _plié _combination. Madame Adrienne seemed to notice where Luna was getting at and said, "I am truly sorry, Miss. Koizumi," Luna found it hard to roll her eyes on her name— Mikan has always been addressed by her first name. "But my decision is final. Mikan Sakura is the best dancer in the whole class, even the strongest when it comes to technique. She's a wonderful student and she deserves to shine."

Luna huffed and crossed her arms, completely forgetting that she is currently talking to a teacher. "I think you are being unfair with the rest, Madame Adrienne. Sakura has _always _had the chance to shine. What about the rest of us?"

Madame Adrienne was just as stubborn as Luna, however, and said instead, "Please excuse me, Miss Koizumi, but we need to continue class, with or without Mikan."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Detention Room**_

"…and then he said, 'Sorry, mate, we ran out of applause.'"

Natsume rolled his eyes at her anecdote. "He made you sound like an egotistical masochist."

Mikan agreed with him as she continued her tinkling giggle. "But, hey, I survived him, didn't I? Besides, Mum fired him the day after that. She was sour the other performer got a louder applause, but that was because I was the last dancer. Everyone was practically dozing off."

"Now _your _mother sounded like the egotistical masochist."

"Please," Mikan snorted, "she's such an over-achiever. Sometimes I wonder what life would be if I didn't choose ballet— like, if I prefer being an artist or even a bad-arse street dancer— " She gasped and covered her mouth, "I mean—"

Natsume shifted on the desk and turned his attention on the window. Mikan tried to finish a sentence. "Natsume, I didn't mean—"

She was cut off, however, when the school bell rang, signifying the end of class and in this case, the end of school. Natsume jumped off the desk without a sound and summarily grabbed his bag on the floor. Mikan tried to catch up with him, but he'd already slammed the door with a mere "See ya". Helpless, she covered her face in her hands and sighed exasperatedly and muttered,

"Oh, Mikan."


	4. Requiem for a Dream

**Chapter 4: Requiem for a Dream**

"_He's modest, clever, and so smart,  
He can barely restrain it."  
_

"_It's not _me_ who's giving up on me. _They're_ giving up on me."

* * *

_

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Parking Lot**_

Ruka raised his eyebrows at his best friend. Usually, Natsume skates only _this _wild and lethal if there are problems back at home, and as far as he is concerned, his Natsume went to school with his usual look. Moreover, he was skating in the school parking lot, and that only happens if they want to get noticed. He wondered what could've happened in the last two hours he wasn't with him. _Is he sour he missed HH_, he questioned himself as he watched the raven-haired slide around in his skateboard, _But those stuffs never bother him_.

"Doing well, mate?"

Ruka turned towards the voice. Koko came up to him with a wide grin, followed by Mochu. He gestured at Natsume, "He started without me?"

The blonde shrugged in reply and asked when he realized they were only two, "Where's Kitsuneme?"

Mochu sniggered before saying, "Got in a fight with that Cameron in AP Euro after you left. Ended up in the infirmary. Man, that was hot."

"Didn't you two do anything?" Ruka asked without looking; he was still too busy observing Natsume's uncanny actions.

"He was sour. Didn't want to share, the greedy faggot."

"Oi, Natsume!" Koko suddenly called the distant skater with a grin, "Get your arse here!" Ruka slapped his forehead. "What?" Koko asked, utterly confused with the blonde's reaction. Before Ruka can answer, however, Natsume swept past them like thunder and lightning, which made Koko jump in fright and surprise. "The hell?!"

Natsume simply glared. "You called?"

Koko, a bit furious at his lack of reaction for almost giving him a heart attack, hollered at his ear. "You freakin' piece of—!" Ruka immediately closed his mouth while Natsume shot Koko an angry glare. Realizing what he had done, Koko fell on his knees and started to worship the pokerfaced raven-haired. "Forgive me, oh great one!"

"Get out of my way" was Natsume's boorish and unadorned reply. In less than five seconds, he was out of their sight and was on his way home.

Mochu dragged Koko from the ground and asked, "What's with him?"

Ruka shrugged, but he was obviously concerned. "I have no idea, but I bet it's not good."

_**

* * *

Sakura Mansion, Dining Room**_

"So, Mikan dear," a woman in her late thirties cleared her throat as she started slicing her steak, "How was school today?" The brunette immediately shuffled in her seat and dropped her utensils. Yuka looked up, utterly confused, while Youichi continued devouring his meal. "Mikan?" her mother asked again.

"School?" she managed to blurt out, "Arts Academy of the Alice? It was mine— fine! And I got det— determined! I was… inspired, that's it!" She felt her cheeks heat up and instantly went back to her supper. Youichi's spoon was halfway through his mouth, frozen as he heard his sister. Yuka bit back a smile and said,

"Mikan, you're not really good in lying, are you, dear?" The brunette gulped and was about to open her mouth when the door flung open, and two males entered the dining room.

"I'm telling you, Dad, we'll get half of their share."

The other man shook his head, "I'm not sure about that, Tsubasa. That's a big step."

"Oh, come on, do you not trust your only son?" Youichi scoffed and Tsubasa quickly added, "Older son, then."

"After screwing up our client's daughter, I'm having second thoughts."

Tsubasa was silent for a moment before saying, "But you have to say, she has a nice ar—"

"Eat your potatoes, Tsubasa." Yuka interrupted him, "I made them."

"Oh," he replied distractedly, "Sweet. Back to the subject—"

"How was _your _day, Youichi?"

The youngest and distant child in the room looked up from his food while he chewed on his peas. "Same."

"Did you make new friends?"

"U-huh."

"Really?"

"U-huh."

"What's his name?"

"Aoi."

"Aoi?" his mother asked confusedly, "That's an uncanny name for a boy."

"Mum, the friend's a _she_." Tsubasa interrupted impatiently, after being cut off earlier.

Resolute to take the attention away from her once and for all, Mikan asked, "How did you know?"

He smirked. "I think I screwed a girl or two in the past named—"

"Too much information!" Mikan screamed. It was a good thing Yuka and Izumi were both busy trying to make Youichi talk more. She turned once again to her matchless meal: boiled broccolis and asparagus. Her eyes wandered hungrily on the strawberry trifle Tsubasa was more than willing to eat; his eyes glinting towards Mikan in every gulp. She rolled her eyes, _Really, _she thought_, Tsubasa is such a moron._ She reluctantly turned back to her greens.

"Oi, Mikan," she raised her head grudgingly to face her— sadly— older brother. "Got some new DVDs up in my room."

She frowned. "If they're videos of you screwing someone—"

"Nah," Tsubasa sniggered at her muse and winked, "But I wish it bloody hell is, if you know what I mean."

"What_ever_ Tsubasa," she rolled her eyes and finished the last of her vegetables. She dabbed her lips with the pallid table napkin and pushed her chair back. "I'm done." Hearing her, Tsubasa immediately swallowed his food and excused himself, too. Mikan rolled her eyes once again; her brother won't leave her until she joins him. She swung the door and headed for the stairs, only to be stopped by Tsubasa's grinning face and toned brawny arms.

"You're not going anywhere, dearie." He said in a mocking singsong voice that greatly reminded her of Narumi. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to his room, ignoring her "Tsubasa Andou Sakura, put me down this instant!"

_**

* * *

Hyuuga Residence**_

Natsume flipped the patties as Aoi continued on her story of the night. "…was unbe-bloody-lievable! His hair's silver, like mine, and he has these weird green eyes that looks a lot like yours!"

He raised his eyebrows. "My eyes aren't green. Did you not learn _anything _at all in kindergarten?"

Aoi rolled her eyes and started swinging her feet as she sat on the counter. "No, dumbass, I mean your _expressions_. He's a serious spitting image of a god."

"Which, then, makes me a god, right?" he smirked, earning a kick on the stomach. "Rude brat." He muttered. Aoi just innocently blinked in reply as he placed a patty each in the two buns. He shoved one of the burgers towards his sister, who whined,

"I want fries!"

"Don't be picky, crybaby." Natsume muttered, "that's all we got."

"Where's _my_ fries?" she frowned looking outright baffled. "I bought them yesterday."

"Where else?" was her brother's sore reply, "In that goddamn room of his." He noticed on the verge of tears. After heaving a sigh to himself, he opened his arms to welcome his sister's embrace.

"I don't want this life anymore," her voice was muffled since her face was buried on his brother's shirt; "I don't want it."

"Everything's going to be fine, Aoi," Natsume mumbled as he ran a hand through her hair. Aoi continued sobbing quietly, and the burgers were left forgotten.

_**

* * *

Sakura Mansion, Tsubasa's Room**_

"Die, die, die!" the kid in the show hollered. Mikan closed her eyes as Willy Wonka's chocolates spurred her mind. From behind her, Tsubasa guffawed at his stepsister: stuck in a chair, a rope around her hands, her feet, and her and the wood. It was a load of work and a lot of sweat just to make her sit down, but he knew it'll be all worth it.

"Tempting." Tsubasa commented wickedly as various Wonka chocolates swarmed on his 108-inch LCD TV. "Wait, are those _almonds_? Damn, I have to get one of those!" He sneaked a glance towards Mikan, who kept shaking her head and muttering, "I have a recital, I have a recital, I have a recital…" He rolled his eyes. _How very stumpy Mikan is_, he thought.

"_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka_," the Oompa-Loompas sang, "_The_ _Amazing Chocolatier! Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, Everybody Give a Cheer!_" Soon, Tsubasa joined in singing, which annoyed Mikan more.

_"He's modest, clever, and so smart,  
He can barely restrain it.  
With so much generosity,  
There is no way to contain it..."_

"Please," Mikan begged, "No more! I'll be a good girl, I swear! I'll… I'll ask for Natsume's forgiveness! Please, enough!"`

Tsubasa, after hearing her little speech, pressed the 'Pause' button on the remote control and raised his eyes at Mikan. "Who's Natsume?

Mikan blushed and muttered, "Nobody."

"I don't _think _it was a 'Nobody'" he commented as he jumped off his bed and went closer to Mikan to whisper on her ear, "Is 'Natsume' your boyfriend?"

"B— Boyfriend?" She stuttered needlessly. "N—No, he— he's— well, I— you see— oh for the love of— Ah whatever!"

Tsubasa grinned triumphantly. "So who is he, exactly?"

"He's, well," Mikan thought for a moment and smiled; the very last thing she felt like doing earlier. "He's the king of the club."

_**

* * *

Hyuuga Residence, Rooftop**_

He stared at the sky and eventually closed his eyes. He feels like shit, truth be told. His family's screwed and a 'friend' described him as a bad-ass street dancer. _Some friend_, he snorted.

"_What'd'ya think y'all doin'?! Ya think I do _that _for a livin'? Go to hell, then, you son of a bitch!"_

"_What do you care? You don't give a damn about us even! What do you want us to do? Sell our bodies? Because I'd rather go to hell, then. Yeah, I'm a son of a bitch, but in case you forgot, you're the one who screwed the bitch."_

"_Talkin' back now, aren't we, boy? Learned to harden those tiny raisins_—_"_

"_For the love of god, can you please just shut up for a second?! Do you think I want to be here? Hell, I'll go anywhere as long as I'm with Aoi and away from asshole drunkards like you!"_

"_And ya think I want to have ya as a son? If I'd've my way, I'd've y'all daughters!"_

"_Fuck off, you maniac. You can't lay a finger on Aoi. God, that's incest!"_

"_Who says I wanna piece o' that filth? That grime is the spitting image of her mother."_

"_Your wife."_

"_What wife? We never married. Leaves me free; a good thing, ain't?"_

"_I'd rather if you died than Mum."_

"_Ya wanna know something, boy? Ya can't skate for your life. Ya can't even dance, if you call those crazy movements _dancing. _Ya think you have the guts, but ya don't, really. Arse you are."_

"_You know what, old man? I do something to make Aoi's life easier. Fuck, I don't give a damn about my future, and all I effin' want is for her to live."_

"_Yada, yada, yada, go fuck yourself. You're a bad-arse street dancer, now go shake 'em all fo' me, why don't you?"_

"_I would never do something for you."_

He grimaced ruefully and sardonically. A bad-arse street dancer, eh? From his back pocket, he took a small plastic of white powder and started snorting.

_**

* * *

Sakura Mansion, Tsubasa's Room**_

"What a load of waffle" was Tsubasa's comment after Mikan retold what happened earlier. She wanted to knock the living lucidness off him.

"You know," Mikan said, her eye twitching, "It's proper manners to say something _reasonable _and _uncouth _when someone shares a morsel of their life to you."

"Ah, well," Tsubasa rubbed his chin, "The guy must miss his parents."

"The guy doesn't even like his parents. I mentioned that six times— that is, if you were listening, which, I believe, you weren't."

"Oi, don't get mad at me!" he raised his hands in defeat, "I'm just _someone_, alright?

"Oh, and by the way, Tsubasa," Mikan struggled once to loosen the ropes, but made no progress. "Get me the bloody hell out of here." He smirked.

"When I come back." He immediately closed the door behind him; Mikan heard his thunderous booming laugh trailing off. She silently cursed. She loves Tsubasa, even though he's just her step brother. Heck, everyone _loves _Tsubasa— and Yuka's no exception. She loved and cared for the guy like her true son.

But right at this moment, Mikan wished she had never accepted Tsubasa in the first place.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Hallway**_

Mikan brushed some of her hair on her face and pouted. She checked the time and continued to frown as she tapped her shoes rather impatiently. She had tied her hair up in a messy bun today and allowed some strands to fall down behind her back. People who passed by would either wave or smile, and she would return them with a winsome beam. She once again glanced at her watch clasped on her wrist and clicked her tongue.

"Hello, Mikan," a sweet voice greeted her. She turned towards the speaker, and found out it was Anna. Her light rosy hair flowed down, held together by frilly bands. Mikan greeted her friend and went back to her mission. "What's cracking?"

"Have you, by any chance, have seen Natsume at all?" Mikan asked, earning a gasp from her friend. She raised her eyebrows and asked, "What?"

"Why are you asking about _him_?" Anna asked in a very low tone. Clueless, she replied in the same manner,

"Just something. And why are we whispering?"

"Whoa, Mikan, why _are _you looking for that criminal?"

She rolled her eyes at Anna. "He's not a _criminal_, Anna; he's a typical skater-slash-break dancer. Where did you get the idea anyways?"

"What?" she raised her hands, "I saw movies like these all the time. And mind you, the deadpan baggy-clothes-wearing people are usually the evil ones. What's more," she moved closer to whisper on Mikan's ear, "I heard he has a pretty nasty criminal record and is in the run."

"You have got to be kidding me," Mikan shook her head at her friend's incredulity of thoughts, "If Natsume is in the run— and I bet you he is not— he won't even be here in the first place."

"What if the one who enrolled him paid for his debts?" Anna challenged her. She didn't realize how very witty Anna can be when she's pushy. "You never know, Mikan."

"Look, Natsume's a jerk, he can be an arse but— What?" she noticed Anna's eyes widen and travel behind her back. Feeling someone behind, Mikan gulped and turned; only to be magnetized by a pair of conspicuous crimson orbs. "N— Nat— sume."

She noticed him glare at her hard before saying, "So I'm an arse now, eh?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that, I mean—"

"You don't need to explain, _Barbie_," she flinched at the use of her arguable pet name, "I'm off. Have fun without the arse."

"By golly, Mikan," Anna exclaimed, "You have a thing for rude men, don't you?"

"Shut up."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, French VI Class**_

Mikan sighed in frustration as she dumped her bag on an empty chair. She then buried her face on her hands and groaned. _How can I be such an arsehole_, she thought angrily, _Oh Mikan, you are so hopeless!_

"Wagwan, all!" Koko's cheerful voice came as he entered the class. Mikan groaned; today really isn't her day. The honey-colored-haired spotted her from across the room and immediately dropped down on the seat next to her. "What's cracking, Barbie?"

"Crunch," she uttered quietly without glancing at him, "Do you mind if you sit somewhere else? I'm expecting someone to occupy the seat next to me, you see."

Koko laughed. "Didn't know you have the hots for me, sweet." He winked, which made Mikan sick. He gestured behind him. "You see, this is the _only _empty chair around."

Mikan groaned as he chuckled wickedly. "Hell."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, AP Euro Class**_

Sumire stared at the godly figure that made his way to an empty desk around the back. Girls swooned over him while the guys gazed at him with a mixture of trepidation and covetousness. He remained blank, however, and placed his feet on the table after sitting down, his skateboard on the floor beneath his seemingly empty knapsack. He leaned backwards and put his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and ignored the attention he was currently getting. Sumire had no idea why the rest of her friends think that Natsume Hyuuga isn't an Adonis in the flesh.

"Mr. Hyuuga, please put your feet down," Ms. Serina Yamada, a serene-looking twenty-nine-years-old Aquarius entered the room in her usual lilac medieval French frock. She brought her things to the table infront and faced the class with a composed face. "Mr. Hyuuga, I repeat, kindly put your feet off your desk." Obviously annoyed, Natsume grumbled and closed his eyes once more. Ms. Serina seemed to understand his worse-than-usual attitude and set the matter aside, though she's still planning to take an aspirin after. "Now, we start."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, French VI Class**_

"Translations today, _chacun_," Mr. Narumi exclaimed as he adjusted his cravat. "Now, _amour_, anyone?" Everyone knew it was an easy question to answer, meaning no one bothered to raise their hands, except…

"You mean _armor_? I got lots of those in—"

"Not _armor_, you idiot," Mikan hissed, "It's _amour_. _Love_."

"Love? I knew that." He raised another eager hand and jumped up without being addressed, "So, is that Koko _armor_ Koko?"

"I've _told _you," Mikan sighed exasperatedly, "it's _amour_! A-M-O-U—"

"Yawn," Koko said as he closed both of his eyes, opening the right to peek at Mikan. "I won't talk to Del Mak sayin', 'Koko armor Del!'" he snorted, ignoring his seatmate's protests in saying the wrong word once again, "I'm dancing my arse off the floor, got it?"

Mikan sighed and rubber her temples. "Whatever you say, Crunch."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, AP Euro Class**_

"…focus on entity rights, nonetheless, was by no means the mere voice of the Enlightenment in relation to the social pact." Ms. Serina wordlessly glanced around the class and continued reading from her book. "The political philosophy of Jean-Jacques Rousseau likewise dealt with the starting point of a just form of regime and the civil liberties surrounded by that supreme state.

"Hence, the government— Mr. Hyuuga, just _what _are you doing?" From behind the room, Natsume lifted the textbook from his face and yawned loudly. "May I remind you that we are in _class_, not back at home in your room?" Natsume snorted loudly and waved a careless hand towards her direction.

Sumire's eyes widened; how can someone be so… _valiant_ towards the teachers? No one, as far as she knows, even dares to talk back to any of the Academy's faculty staff unless they want a suspension or immediate expulsion. Then again, she added to herself, from what she'd heard, they're just their thing.

Just then, the school bell rang, signifying the end of first period. The whole class gathered their things and headed for the door. "Not you, Mr. Hyuuga." came the teacher's voice. Sumire picked up her things gradually as possible and headed out to close the door. She leaned on the door and peeked inside, seeing the bored Natsume standing infront of Ms. Serina's desk.

"Mr. Hyuuga," she started, "We gave your guardian our word that we'd try and help you but I'll be honest, you're making it awfully difficult."

"He's not my guardian." Sumire heard Natsume mutter.

Ms. Serina sighed. "I am well aware of that, Mr. Hyuuga. But you are cleverer and better than this, Natsume. Give yourself a chance and don't give up on yourself."

"It's not _me_ who's giving up on me," he explained in an unnatural tone, "_They're _giving up on me."

"I don't know much about your life back home, Natsume, but don't let them get into you. You're smart and good; behind your wisecracks, I know you are."

When she heard the sound of rolling wheels, Sumire dashed away of the door's direction.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Biology Class**_

"Elective?"

Nonoko nodded at Mikan, who was, luckily, taking Biology with her. "Remember? We get to choose our electives this year."

"Glad the protests reached Mr. N's mind, then." Mikan mumbled, and then went back to her friend. "So what are we taking this year?"

"Sadly, C-Majors won't get to choose."

"Ha, ha," Mikan rolled her eyes, "Where's the punch line?"

"I am _serious_, Mikan," Nonoko urged, "Our names were all written down the applications!"

"Yeah, right," the brunette just laughed. "It's not like we'll end up in the Theater." When Nonoko simply looked at her, Mikan stood up. "You mean—?"

"Yes."

"Because of—?"

"Yep."

Mikan stopped talking for a moment. "We're screwed, aren't we?"

"More than screwed."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Theater Class**_

"Welcome to your elective, Alices."

"We didn't actually _elect _this class, to be frank," Sumire said out loud, "Our adviser signed us without our knowing. They may as well declare everyday as a mix club event."

"Miss Shouda," the lady infront cleared her throat, "As much as I want to hear how you exactly ended up in this class, I'm afraid I lack the time and the desire to listen, now if you don't mind me telling you to shut your mouth, with all pleasantries, please do."

There was a moment's silence before Koko, who was seated around the back, laughed. "Oh, shut up." Sumire muttered.

"Back to me, people," the lady pushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear, "Welcome to your chosen elective, the theater class. I understand that _some _of you do not want to be in this class," she shot Sumire a look under her rounded spectacles, "but I treat everyone fairly and will not hold it unto you.

"Now, this December, the Theater Class will perform a play with the Christmas theme. Auditions for the parts will be held starting _today_ to _tomorrow _only. That is to assure how much you _want _the part and how _desperate_ you are to hold on to spikes, and, of course, to avoid any kind of cheating, including lip syncing.

"This year, Mister Narumi, who will be helping me in the management of this _very _important musical, decided that the play shall be _Papa Panov_. Now, is anyone familiar with the title? Class? Anyone at all? None? I guess this is going to be harder than I thought…"

"This is nuts," Sumire whispered hoarsely at Mikan, "No one will go to the stupid play. And do they expect us to sing? Please say no."

"Deary," Mikan replied, "It's a musical. What else do you expect? But they're reasonable enough to hold auditions. Things would've been harder."

"You ladies behind, please stand up." Mikan and Sumire, startled by the sudden call, immediately stood up as a reflex. The lady approached them, her brows arched. "I reckon you've never been to any of my classes before, have you?"

"No, Madame." They both replied; Hotaru, Nonoko and Anna simply stared. They were either too scared to do anything or they already know what's going to happen next.

"First of all," she cleared her throat, "I am Miss Jacqueline. I am not _Mistress Jacqueline_, I am not _Madame Jacqueline_, and neither am I _Missus Jack_. I am _Miss Jacqueline_, and you are not allowed to use your phones in my class, Mister Fashionably Late."

Natsume looked up when he felt someone's eye on him and yawned. "Pardon me, _Miss_, but I had no idea."

"Well then, now that you know, may you please keep your phone in a place where I can't see them?" Beside him, Koko and Kitsuneme snickered while Mochu demonstrated what they were thinking, since his phone was exposed to the outside world, too.

Sumire rolled her eyes. "How imbecile."

"I am now advising you to leave your afternoons free, since we shall be busy with the play." Miss Jacqueline cleared her throat, interrupting the possible brawl that might occur. "The musical is a very important play, which is also the reason why C-Majors ended here."

"What?"

"You mean this is all fucking planned?"

"For the love of—"

"_Ahem, ahem_," the teacher fake coughed, attracting the rest's attention. "The C-Majors are professionals, as we all know, and Alice Academy of the Arts looks at them _very, very _highly. Expectations are sky-scraping in this class."

"Cut to the chase, will you?" Mochu said loudly, causing Miss Jacqueline to glare at him for a moment.

"The C-Majors will perform a recital, and—"

"Excuse me?" Mikan said out loud. "I beg your pardon, Miss Jacqueline, but don't you think a _recital_ is a bit… un-Christmas-ly?"

She raised her eyebrows at the brunette. "I'm afraid I'm the one in charge here, _Miss Sakura_, and I advise you to not interrupt me again."

"But—"

"_Detention_, Miss Sakura."

"Oh great." Mikan grumbled. She buried her face on her hands. "Two days of no ballet. Great. Absolutely wonderful."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Detention Room**_

"Not my bloody fault," Mikan grumbled, "Now I have four recitals and a competition to cram about. Just… _augh_!"

The door behind her quietly opened, but then slammed. "Oh, great." Mikan turned to the speaker, and her eyes met Natsume's. "Just what I need. Hey, Barbie."

"It's _Mikan_." She said bitterly, forgetting that she was at fault. "Why are you even here anyways?"

"I don't need to tell you everything, do I? It's a free world. Everyone gets detention."

"And it just so happens that you got detention the day _I _got detention."

He inquired a brow. "If you think I'm stalking you—"

"I never said you did!" she quickly preserved herself, "I'm just—"

"Tut, tut," he threw himself to an empty chair three rows behind her, "Quite defensive, aren't you?"

"I never know with you," she replied, and turned her back on him. She fiddled with her phone, and she realized the sickening silence engulfing her. _Apologize_, her conscience was telling her, _Do it_. "Natsume."

The raven-haired at the back growled. "Hn."

_I'll take that as a 'What?'_, she thought, and voiced out loud, "I'm sorry about yesterday and this morning."

"Hn."

"You didn't let me finish, and you didn't even hear me out! Let's face it; it's your fault, too."

_Right, drag me into this, Barbie._ "Hn."

"But I'm willing to take all the faults. It's my stupid, flipping, mouth disease attacking at that time."

_Oblivious twat. _"Hn."

"… and I don't— is that a prison roll?"

Natsume raised his eyebrows and took out a lighter from his pocket. "A+ for you, Barbie."

Mikan was silent for a few seconds. "You do know that's prohibited, don't you?"

"So what?" His voice was muffled as he coughed out smoke.

"Those are the rules."

He shrugged. "Rules are meant to be broken."

Noticing his lack of interest and his deficiency in actually talking to her, Mikan said, "I'm sorry."

"Forget it."

"Natsume—"

"Forget it, alright? Don't expect an apology from me, Barbie. That's not me."

Mikan smiled. "You're such a modest person, aren't you, Natsume?"

He shrugged. "I thought I'm cocky?"

She laughed. "And clever." Her eyes then landed on his rucksack. _What more does that bag hold?_


	5. In the Ayer

_**Author's Note**__: Please excuse this abrupt change, but from now on, "Mom" will be spelt as "Mum" as it is the English way of addressing the mother. I did it during the first chapter, but I can't say the same for the previous one._

_Alright. I'm sorry. This is an awfully late update. I've been focusing on Senior Tales these days because I'm planning to finish it ASAP. Sk8r Boi, meanwhile, can at least wait. You see, I'm grounding myself for only getting average grades in Math, Economics, Gym, Health and Social Studies. Sucks, I know, but, hey, I have to for sophomore year._

_**

* * *

Chapter 5: In The Ayer**_

"_Oh hot damn, this is my jam__  
__Keep me partyin' till the AM__  
__Y'all don't understand__  
__Make me throw my hands in the ayer, a-ayer, ayer, a-ayer__  
__Throw my hands in the ayer, a-yer, ayer, a-ayer__  
__Ayer, a-ayer, ayer, a-ayer__  
__Ayer,__  
__Aight now stop!__"_

"_Break a leg."_

_**

* * *

Sakura Mansion, Mikan's Room**_

"Mikan!"

The brunette buried her face between her hands and thought, _Please not Tsubasa._

The knocking continued. "Mikan dear!"

"Oh no," she grumbled, "It's worse."

Her door room opened, and Yuka stepped inside with a gleeful smile. "Hello, sweetie!"

"Hi, mum," Mikan forced a smile. She was not in the mood to talk. She was only in school for three weeks and life is already hell. "What's up?"

"Well, your first recital of the month is tomorrow, right?" Mikan nodded, and her mother continued. "I'm thinking pink!"

"Oh please, mum," she groaned, "No pink! I'm sick of wearing pink, and you always go overboard."

"But I already have everything planned!" Yuka frowned. Mikan tried to assure her mother.

"That's what Mr. Edgar commented last recital, remember? He hates the frills, and I have to agree with him on that account. I almost fell on my partner during my _pas de deux_."

"Just do this one favor for me, Mikan, dear."

"No, mum, just do this one favor for _me_."

Her mother sighed; there was no point arguing with her anymore. "Have it your way. But please do make sure that we get to sit on cushions this time, fine?"

Mikan shook her head with a smile. "Yes, mum."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Class C-1**_

"What do you mean you're changing the play?"

"I mean it as it is."

Mikan shook her head unbelievably at her adviser and currently most hated adult in the world. "But— but— we already have the props! I even ordered goat milk from the best!"

"Yes, well," Mr. Narumi gulped, "the administration thinks that a Christmas play is enough for the theater class. And since there's not enough time for them to prepare for the October play, they want us to do it instead. They want something off from classics."

"You're kidding me."

"I kid you not, dear Mikan," he winked at the chosen Class Representative, "so we're changing the play to the good ol' Romeo and Juliet."

"That _sucks_," she immediately commented, "No one wants to watch something they cursed for being so cliché."

Mr. Narumi frowned. "We can't do anything about it."

Mikan thought for a moment before snapping her fingers.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Hallway**_

"Lacy Smith, right?"

The girl nodded at Mikan. She pushed her glasses to her nose and flipped her auburn hair. It was her study period, and she didn't expect someone to look for her early in the morning. "Yes?"

"I need you to do something for the class. Remember Mr. Narumi's aggro idea?"

"The play?" Lacy asked, shifting her books to her other arm. "Yes, I remember."

"Well, the administration doesn't approve of _our_ Christmas theme and wants _us_ to do the play for this October," the brunette explained, "and Mr. Narumi wants Romeo and Juliet. Something about romantic masquerade stuffs."

"Blech." Lacy made a face, which Mikan agreed at with the same tone of voice.

"_Exactly_. I mean, I'm not against Shakespeare, but it just turns me off. It's so overused."

"I understand," the other replied, "But what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, here's the thing. They want us to do Romeo and Juliet alone, meaning we have no other choice. So can you fish out something out of the story? Tweak it out a little bit?"

Lacy nodded slowly, and Mikan bit her lip, thinking, _Please say yes, please do!_

At last Lacy agreed. "Sure. It's for the class."

Mikan squealed and hugged Lacy tight before running to her next class, "Thank you!"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, AP Euro**_

"Not _you _again." Mikan groaned as she stared at the only available seat in class— right next to no one else but Koko.

"_Bonjour_!" He waved at her from the middle row. Mikan groaned loudly as she slammed her books on her desk.

"Aren't there _any _other seats in this Academy?!" she complained, which only made Koko smile more and took her words as an acknowledgement.

"Hey, hey, how's the play goin'? I'm pretty good bein' a tree, yeah?" He droned on; Mikan wondered when he was going to stop. "I'm thinkin' if I can be a bush instead, y'know? Then I'd get to dance an' crawl around, know where 'm getting' at? Trees just have to stay put, an' Narumi don' wantin' me to do somethin' goofy, like make a joke a' the middle part. What a git."

_Well, maybe you should consider your grammar first_, she thought bitterly, but didn't want to say it out loud. She was far too good for that. "Look, please, just… shut your trap for a moment, alright? Ya get where I'm goin'?"

Realizing her fetid mood, Koko held up his hands. "Fine, just cool it, will ya? An' why you speakin' so weird? Ya sound like crap, quit it."

"_Augh_!"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

"Nervous?"

Sumire rolled her eyes at Anna's words. "Sweetheart, when has Mikan ever been anxious before a recital? That has never been heard of!"

"You have a point."

"Of course I do."

Mikan giggled. "Oh, stop it, Sumire."

"What? It _is _true. Tell me it is not and you will not be able to sleep with both of your eyes closed."

"Look, whatever. But be sure you will _be _watching my recital, fine?"

It was Nonoko's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, come on, Mikan, how could we miss your recital? Your mum had some posters and flyers given, and even sent _us _messages to watch it."

"Oh God, she did that?" Mikan's face turned pale. "And I thought she'll be still as the Eiffel Tower!"

"Apparently, the Tower has been wobbling a bit."

"She is so proud of you, dear," comforted Anna, "Anyone would be. Even my parents are!"

"O-kay, do not need to know that." Mikan grumbled. She didn't like being fussed over. As much as possible, she wants to have a serene, concealed life. "Anyhoo, about our play…"

"I heard about that," Sumire said after taking a bite of her grilled salmon, "We're doing the Halloween play. So is it going to be scary?"

"I'd love that, really, but Mr. N's thinking about Romeo and Juliet. He wants a speck of old English romance."

"That's fabulous!"

"No, Su, it is so not."

Sumire crossed her arms. "Please don't tell me you're being against love now? Look, the right guy is just around there. Somewhere."

Hotaru spoke for the first time as she sneaked out a bottle of her crab roe. "Right, and you're staring straight at the eyes of the notorious Hyuuga."

"Mate, what 'choo looking at that green-haired freak anyway?" Koko asked as he gulped down his soda.

Natsume rolled his eyes. "Don't make a fuss. I don't like her."

"I didn't say I do!" Koko retorted, "But seriously, her glare's scarin' the shit out of me."

Ruka shook his head as Natsume rolled his eyes. "I heard that Mikan's changing the play."

"But—" Koko spluttered, "I'm bein' a good tree!"

"Speaking of…" Mochu's voice trailed as their subject walked her way towards their table.

Kitsuneme snickered. "You're _stunning _her, Natsume."

"Hello!" Mikan smiled at them as she stood before their eyes. "Are you doing something later?"

"No, not really," Ruka replied, "Play rehearsal's canceled, right?"

She nodded, "I would appreciate it if you watch my recital."

"But it's _ballet_," Mochu groaned, "No offense, mate, but that crap you call dancing sends me to sleep."

"Yes, well, that's going to take some getting used to, my dear," Mikan winked, "Our play would be somehow themed like _that_."

"I don't do ballet." Kitsuneme said bluntly. "You can't make me."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I will, _mate_. Please consider my offer. It would help when we practice for our real play."

"Great." Natsume muttered. "What a waste of time."

Mikan scowled.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater, Backstage**_

Mikan scowled some more. She didn't realize that Luna would be there. The blonde approached her, and she forced a smile. "Mikan, sweetheart, give it your all."

"Why, thank you, Luna," Mikan accepted the bouquet of roses from her, no doubt asked to be given by her parents. Mikan had met the Koizumis a few years back, and they were all very kind to her. "Please send my love to your mother and father."

"Of course," Luna uttered. For some reason, Mikan felt bad. The fact that others' parents cared for her seemed to be a bit… _unfair_. Nevertheless, she was glad to be of their acquaintance for quite some time. "Well, break a leg." With that, Luna strut off the backstage and slammed the door behind her.

For some reason, Mikan didn't like her last words. "Wasn't it supposed to be '_merde'_?"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio**_

"What time is it?" Ruka asked Mochu from the other side of the room. The latter pulled a random guy's arm and glared at the watch for a whole three seconds before turning back to Ruka.

"Forty minutes past two, mate." He then added to the guy, "Next time, get something with _numbers_ on it." The guy, too stunned to say more, turned his back on him and stomped towards the other side of the studio. Ruka shook his head.

"Ain't it almost Sakura's recital?" Koko hollered from the middle of the dance floor where he was busy playing poker with Kitsuneme.

Mochu yawned. "Pass."

Ruka stood up and tapped his foot impatiently. "Sakura invited us. Least we can do is go."

"Dunno," Kitsuneme replied, "D'ya think we can go?"

"We _are _invited."

"Dude, what is with you?" Mochu commented, "Why d'ya wanna go? Wait, don't tell me!" he snorted and burst into laughter, "You're smitten with her!"

Ruka turned red. "Shut it, Mochu. It's called _polite_."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever dude, you're rarely polite, but, that's what you want us to believe, so, yeah."

The subject threw his towel at his friend and went to gather his things.

"You're not going." Koko said in an annoying and girly sing-song voice.

Ruka didn't retort.

Kitsuneme snorted and commented without looking up. "He's not."

Ruka still didn't budge as he looked for his water bottle.

Mochu dug his hand in a bag of chips and said with his mouth full, "Dfown' ef'n shingk 'baw it."

The latter, however, went straight to Natsume who had his eyes under his manga, but was surely awake. "I'm going to her recital so don't wait for me." After a while, Natsume pulled the book off his eyes, just in time to see Ruka peek his head from the small gap in between the doors, and then addressed the rest of the guys, "By the way, I heard there's free food after."

Mochu's ears perked up, Kitsuneme shouted "Surrender!" while Koko tossed his cards in the air as he ran towards the door, shouting, "Rukaaaaa!"

When all three were out and when everyone's gazes were out of the way, Natsume walked his way out.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater, Backstage**_

"Get a hold of yourself, Mikan. It's not like this is your first recital… with three famous choreographers watching you… no, certainly not your first. Take deep breaths," she inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, "There. See? Nothing to worry about. No broken legs. _Certainly no broken legs_."

From the other side of the red curtains, she heard muffled voices; the program would start in any minute. Gracefully, she pirouetted to a small table on the side, got her pink water bottle and drank a tad amount.

"One two three, one two three, one two three…" she raised her legs and started to stretch, "…four, one two three, one two three, one two—"

"Mikan dear?"

She went back to the chair she left just moments ago and met Mr. Narumi. "Yes, sir?"

"You're on in five minutes."

"Yes, sir."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater**_

"'scuse me, comin' through!"

"Hey, watch it!"

"I _told _you I'm coming through! Rich kids these days…" Koko shook his head as he took the empty seat three chairs away from the disturbed music student. "Hey, Kitsu, what's he doin' here anyway? Kitsu? Kitsu?" he turned around, looking for his friend, yet not a single strand of Kitsuneme's dirty blonde hair was in sight.

Until he saw a pale yellow bob hopping towards the backstage door. "Eh?"

Koko left his seat and went after the bob, thinking, "'ide an' seek, eh, Kitsu?"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy, Performance Theater, Backstage**_

Mikan meditated as she waited for the last two minutes to end. "Now get a grip on yourself, Sakura!" she scolded herself, "There is someone out there who will be very, very important to your life, and if you can't ace this one, it'll be harder acing the next ones."

_Thirty… twenty-nine… twenty-eight… twenty-seven… twenty-six…_

"Breathe in, breath out…"

_Twenty… nineteen… eighteen… seventeen… sixteen…_

"Inhale, exhale…"

_Ten… nine… eight… seven… six…_

"You do know you're simply thinking up synonyms, don't you?"

"Oh." Mikan blinked. "I didn't know you'd come."

"You invited me," Natsume shrugged. "I thought it'd be polite."

"You know, you're the last person who I actually _think _would ever be polite."

"Well, that happens. Got your tights tight?"

"Are you hitting on me?"

"Do you think I am?"

"Sounds like it. Are you?"

"Don't be so full of yourself. It was an insult. Honestly, ballerinas with your attitude kicks a cheerleader out of the picture."

"Right, whatever."

"Mikan?" Mr. Narumi peeked from the curtains. "It's time."

She gathered herself, ran a hand against her hair and pirouetted towards the place she'd enter to. As the curtains started to open, Mikan smiled at Natsume. "I'll be the one on the air."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater**_

"Ouch, will you look at that?" Mochu commented as Mikan entered the stage gracefully, landing after a _failli_. She slowly moved around to the center of the stage, raising her hands up and down, her legs stretching to various positions, and her serene expression staying put on her face. The music became faster and she performed three _fouetté _without pausing.

Kitsuneme blinked in awe. "That was something."

"Sure is," Mochu added. He seemed to be the type of person who likes to talk while watching something, contrast to his other friends' attitudes. His eyes widened some more when she breathlessly and flawlessly did a _pas de poisson_. "What shit is she on? She's outshining a fish!"

"Well, she looked like a fish." Ruka said matter-of-factly. "How can she outshine it if she's acting like one?"

"Hey, mate," the other raised his hands in defeat, "Not all of us are acing students." Ruka rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the dancing brunette until his raven-haired friend decided to join them.

"Natsume, mate, where've ya been?"

The latter shrugged. "Somewhere."

Ruka noticed him staring at the ballerina. "She's been jumping up and down all the time."

"Going for the air?"

"Something like that."

Natsume snapped his headphones and turned his music up louder. Claps started coming around after Mikan carried out a perfect _grande jeté._

"Where's Koko?"

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater, Backstage**_

"Hey, Kitsu, I hear music an' I don' think Mikan will like our not being there."

No answer came, expected enough. Koko looked around the place. There were five mirror dressers lined up on the left and room dividers on the other side. Duffel bags were scattered everywhere, feathers were on the floor and fur hung in all places.

"I don' wan' gettin' in any problem with someone who can touch her forehead with her toe." As if thinking the subject over, he said again, "I don' know how she'll hurt me with that."

He was about to dart from where he entered until he noticed a plug near the spilling water machine. "I'm way smarter than them people." He said to himself smugly and walked over to the plug and yanked it off, leaving the water spilling and the plug on the floor.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater**_

_This is it, Mikan, _she told herself, _a soubresaut and the coda Grande._

After a magnificent _sissonne_, she pranced a bit to the right and did the penultimate step after breathing deeply. _Last chance, Sakura._

She raised her hands to her head and before she knew it, she was up on the air when the stage lights died. Unconscious of her surroundings, she stepped on her feet and slipped.

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater**_

_Oh hot damn, this is my jam__  
__Keep me partyin' till the AM_

He turned up the sounds even louder when Mikan's slow ballet music started to get through his headphones.

_Y'all don't understand__  
__Make me throw my hands in the ayer, a-ayer, ayer, a-ayer_

She jumped from her feet to one foot, adding a bit of a small leap. He can't help but wonder how she can move so gentle and swift, contrast to his hip-hop moves.

_Throw my hands in the ayer, a-yer, ayer, a-ayer_

Like a swan, she pirouetted and strutted somewhere to the right side of the stage, though still somewhere near the middle.

_Ayer, a-ayer, ayer, a-ayer_

Charmingly as ever as she can ever be, she sprung in both her feet and back again. Her hands were above her when she was preparing for a leap.

_Ayer,_

She jumped to the air, high to the extent of her legs. He swore he saw Ruka cringe.

_Aight now stop!_

The lights died.

_Thump!_

Natsume removed his headphones. Gasps. Screams._  
_

A loud and whiny "_Ow!"_


	6. Nice Piece of Art

_**Chapter 6: Nice Piece of Art**_

"_**I told her to get a life."**_

_Every day I see my dream.__  
__Every day I see my, every day I see my dream.__  
__Every day I see my dream.__  
__Ev ev every day I see my dream._

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Sociology Class**_

Mr. Narumi walked around the class room, handing out a piece of white paper to every student from a box. "Now, I only want one word in that paper, and one word only."

Koko raised his hand and said without being allowed to talk. He was holding out his paper in the air and looking at the blonde teacher questioningly. "Isn't this too spacey for one word?"

"Scribble in capitals if you wish," he shrugged, "it won't matter, as long as you do what I ask you to."

"Right, right," Koko sat down and rested his head to his hands. "And we jot a word, right? Then that's it."

Mr. Narumi didn't speak at once. He distributed the remaining pieces of paper to the students at the back, before leaning against his table in front and said, "Not just any word."

"Splendid." Mochu said from the back row. "That singles out _jerk, prat, arse, fag—"_

"Well," the teacher interrupted, "unless you want it that much, who am I to stop you?"

"Yeah, who are you to stop me? I want to- Say what?"

Glad that he finally got everyone's attention, he sat on his table, ignoring a student's mumble that it was forbidden, and said, "What I want from you is to put one word in that paper: one word that will describe what you want in your life right now."

"Easy." Kitsuneme said, as if his answer is the most obvious thing in the world. "Pounds. Lots and lots of pounds."

"Are you quite, quite sure that's what you settle for?"

"Money solves everything, isn't that what this Academy wants us to learn?" Natsume piped in, surprising a couple of students since he rarely talked in class. "It's not all about arts in life. Of course, aside from the Art of Making Money." His eyes wandered to Hotaru, who rolled her eyes.

Mr. Narumi shook his head and sighed.. "Who am I to stand between a guy and his money?"

There was a moment's silence before Koko piped in, "A gay nanny?"

"Hey, that rhymes." Kitsuneme added later on.

Ruka remained quiet and simply rolled his eyes at his friends. He went back to his paper and tapped his pen. What does he want in his life right now? It was countless. A car, a new pair of sneakers, a new pet to satisfy his obvious fondness to animals… but then, a couple of golden ones took precedence: a life out of the streets, a family. No one really knew his whole biography, perhaps besides his friends and the school officials who saw his background, but otherwise, everyone else has no idea. They don't know that he doesn't really live in the ghetto part of the city.

In actuality, his mother is a wealthy French woman, and his father is a Japanese businessman. He had a wonderful childhood. His mother pampered him, especially as an only child. Only, when he reached the age of fifteen, his father wanted him to stop attending the local school and instead enroll in a posh private school, at the same time learning how to handle the business. He never had another happy time after that. His pets were given away, his video consoles thrown, and the only place he was allowed to go was the library. His mother was disturbed about the arrangement, and she got into a fight with her husband. Ruka was devastated and stopped the argument, saying that he's willing to do everything for the better. His mother was furious, and it was a battle. They would exchange hateful retorts, until Ruka just decided to run away and left a trail that he went overseas. He's still keeping in touch with his mother, and has been informed that his father was not trying too hard anymore, convinced that Ruka will come back eventually.

And so, he knew what to write. In the white piece of paper, he wrote, in his scrawny scribble, the word, _Dad_.

He folded his paper into half and glanced at Natsume, who was back to reading his comic book, but judging the distant expression; Ruka knew that he wasn't really reading the page.

Feeling that someone was staring, Natsume hastily turned to the next page, but his thoughts were still buried to another subject. He wondered if what he wrote was what he really wanted. He wanted so many things right now; he didn't know what the most important one is. He wanted a life with Aoi— a life where he didn't have to worry about his sister and check if she's alright, if she's not getting beat up, or something of the other. But it was downright impossible, and he knew that. But somehow, he still wanted to believe that things will get better— or at least, for his sister. Aoi's all he has, and the best he could do is to protect her, to defend her.

And if he has to die for that, then hell he will.

Discreetly as he can, he gradually turned over his paper and stared at the word written in his thin handwriting: _Love_. Yes, it was so out of him to write a word he didn't feel coming from his parents, or people at all. He avoided it like the forbidden fruit. He despised it, knowing that there's something existing in the world that doesn't exist— or maybe just in his life. He wondered why he even thought of it. Maybe because that's what's lacking in his life. Yes, perhaps that. Since a child, he only longed for his parent's love. Aoi was claimed to be an accident, but in his opinion, she lives for him. He wouldn't want to live if not for her. She's his life and soul, making him smile and laugh even in the dumbest ways. And he vows to never leave her, and be her brother.

_He sure knows how to get a person think_, he thought as he turned the paper over once again, his eyes lingering to his happy-go-lucky teacher in front, apparently starting to creep Koko out.

"Excuse me, sir," finally clearing his throat and looking straight to the eyes of Mr. Narumi, "but would you mind going over Mochu's? He seems troubled."

"Ah, yes," Mr. Narumi smiled when he saw Mochu glaring at his still-blank paper, looking completely dejected. When he strolled off, Koko sighed in relief and quickly wrote _Future _and placed his paper in his book. He nodded solemnly to himself. Yes, that was what he wanted most right at this moment. He wanted to have a future— a sure, safe one, where he'll be successful in life. He didn't want to end up like he was before: anti-social and so alone. He wanted to be friends, and he was glad that Kitsuneme got him to be the person he is currently. There wasn't a trace of his past etched on his face, but he wondered if he will ever have something ahead of him, with the life he's in. He can only rely on his dancing to get him a life, but it's not like hip hop dancers are in demand, especially in England, unless he can get in agencies and appear in Brithop MV's, he's done. But everyone knows he can't keep dancing forever. When he's forty, or perhaps even just thirty, he'll be out of business, and he'll have nothing to help him live.

He just wanted a future. That was— "Ow!" He looked around. Kitsuneme was wearing his _Your-dead _expression, and Koko merely shrugged while dodging another one of his friend's spit balls. Then, he threw a dry crumpled paper, which landed on Koko's desk. Raising a brow, he opened the sheet and read the sentence, in Kitsuneme's all-caps writing, _WHAT'S YOURS?_

_What's yours? _He threw it back, avoiding Mr. Narumi's eyes.

The answer came back before he even got to count to ten. _I ASKED YOU FIRST._

_What's yours? _This time, Koko drew a line under his question twice.

_UNDERSTANDING._

Koko knew at once. Kitsuneme has no parents. Well, technically, he does, but he thinks they'd rather be dead. When he began dancing, they completely ignored him, saying he's a disgrace to the family, saying that he should be in medicine school like his father. Kitsuneme wasn't one to back out on his dreams. He would stick to them, and the brawn he showed whenever the argument comes up in the family table (the only time they ever get together as a family) proves just how much a stickler he is to his own rules of life.

_Future_, Koko wrote. He doesn't hesitate in telling Kitsuneme his secrets. He has always been there, been a friend, and pulled him out of depression. When he threw the paper ball back to Kitsuneme, they caught eyes for a second, and both nodded. It was a mutual decision.

They both made a new ball with the words _WHAT'S YOURS? _and _what's yours? _then hit Mochu straight on the forehead, who yelped and suddenly looked around. Koko and Kitsuneme waved their hands to the air, trying to get his attention, which they eventually did, only it also grabbed Mr. Narumi's.

"Is there a problem, boys?" The three of them shook their heads, and he simply smiled before strolling over to Mikan's place, who was having a very comfortable time and an optimistic aura despite the cast she had on her foot. "You seem quite sure of your answer."

Mikan smiled at him and said, "Naturally, sir. I already have everything I want _now_."

"If you're so sure, then do you mind telling the class?"

"Ballet." she declared proudly without hesitation.

"Obviously." Natsume muttered. Mikan ignored him.

"Hmm…" Mr. Narumi rubbed his chin, "Do you see yourself with _this _after college?"

"Mr. Narumi, I see myself dancing ballet since the day I started."

"Broaden your mind, sweetheart," the teacher twirled around the room, "Enlighten it! Discover new things! Discover yourself!"

"Uh, right." Mikan shook her head as Mr. Narumi peered from one desk to another. He was so innocent. She didn't need to discover herself, or new things, or even enlighten them. Ballet is her life. She's got everything set out: a primed career, supportive parents, a scholarship, and the offers. One single step each time, and sooner or later she's done. She's famous. Everybody will crave for her, running crazy after her, wanting to get her autograph signed on their _pointe _shoes and taped on their tutus. It was everything she could've asked for. No one is in her way. _No one_. Well, not until her foot heals, that is.

Hotaru fixed her hair when she saw her best friend's reaction. She may not show it, but she was actually worried with Mikan. It was always about ballet, and careers, and recitals, and diets around her. She wasn't even Mikan anymore. That perhaps explain why she wrote, in her charming calligraphy, _Time_. Her best friend needed it. _She _needed it.

Many have always said that she was lucky; everyone in her family was successful in their fields, and it wouldn't be a surprise if she becomes a renowned businesswoman, or a corporate lawyer, or a wealthy stockbroker. Simply put, like Mikan, she had her whole future ahead of her. Everyone knew she's bound to be someone worldwide. But she wanted something that can't be achieved by being successful. She wanted attention, and only Mikan was able to give it to her. Sure, she waved her off when she was being a complete starfish— in both the sense of being stupid and sticky— but she enjoyed it, because she never got it back home. It was always, "Sorry, honey, I'm busy tonight" or "Can't, sweetie, I'm out of town" or even "Too tired from work, kid, sorry". Her mom, her dad, and her brother were always away or too exhausted. She thought an Art Academy will perhaps get her noticed a little more, get them to sit during recitals and then perhaps get a bite to eat after, but _no_, life didn't work that way for Hotaru Imai. The excuses keep coming and they rarely came to recitals and school appointments and PTA meetings, and even if they did, they only get until halfway before someone calls and demand them back in their offices. Mikan was all Hotaru had at the moment, who acted like such a worry-rat, that perhaps, she didn't want to accept reality that the only one who gave her attention all those years was growing up and maybe, just maybe, learning how to let go of her. Hotaru wanted to rewind time, pause it, stop it… anything, just so everything can go right with her family, even just once.

"Everyone through?" Mr. Narumi smiled at the class from the desk in front. "Now, I want you all to fold it into four and slip it inside this balloon."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

"What the hell is that?"

Miikan didn't bother looking up, recognizing the voice without finding the need to. "Good afternoon, Crunch."

"No, seriously, what's that?" Koko said, as if the one-fourth-filled bowl of soggy vegetables interested him. He pulled out a chair and sat with them in the table without invitation. "Is that some kind of food ballerina's are required to eat?"

"It's _stew_ and I'd appreciate it if you don't spit on our lunch." Mikan mumbled. "Your annoying commentary isn't welcome here."

"You don't mean that," Koko grinned. "I have brains."

"What, the size of a nut?" She rolled her eyes. "Honey, need anything?"

Koko scratched his head. "Yeah, I was wondering if you have a spare coin there. I'm three short."

Mikan rolled her eyes amusedly and took some coins from her wallet. "Knock yourself out, Crunch."

He gave her a goofy smile and waved off, "Sure will, No Bones."

_**

* * *

Alice Academy of the Arts, Ballet Studio**_

"Let me take a wild guess."

"Hello, Luna."

The light-haired ballerina had stopped working on her _pench__é__e _when Mikan walked into the studio. The rest of the class was still in the changing room, but she wasn't in tights and leotards. How could she? She had a cast, and the doctor said she can't dance for some time. It brought huge fights and difficult arrangements, and she was going to start fixing some right then.

"Hello to you too, Twinkle Toes." Luna said mockingly, facing the mirrors with her back turned and looking at Mikan through the reflectors. "Let's see, you want a leg replacement, don't you?"

She hobbled closer, ignoring what a pain it was. "Now why on earth would I want that?"

"Oh, I have no idea," Luna rolled her eyes, "but seeing as you're crippled and can barely stretch your leg, why not?"

"Brilliant one Luna, but, no."

This time, she faced Mikan with hands on her hip. "Fine then, what does Luna Koizumi deserve to be blessed with Mikan Sakura's presence?"

It actually took quite a while before Mikan managed to breathe out; "I'm volunteering you as my understudy."

"Pardon?" She couldn't believe her ears. An understudy? She had often been an understudy, but she has never filled the position out. It was a surprise that Mikan was actually offering her the position.

"You're my understudy, Luna," Mikan repeated, "With the accident I had, I'm not fit to perform in the next three recitals, at most. I'll sit out of class in the next month. Sprains and broken bones aren't that easy to heal, you see." A sad smile crept on her face. "Ironically, _break a leg _isn't really for good luck."

"Are you accusing me?" Luna suddenly said, attitude changing. Admittedly, she was jealous of how Mikan seemed to have amazed the audience and caught the attention of many choreographers, but she would never do anything to hurt her, in the physical sense!

Mikan rolled her eyes. "Of course, not, Luna. I don't think you're psychopathic enough to do that."

"Thank you, that makes me feel a lot better," Luna sardonically exclaimed.

The brunette laughed. "Silly. I have many things to work on, plus the Theater. I don't think I can handle everything right now. I'll see you later." She waved goodbye and turned around, but before she closed the studio door behind her, she heard Luna call after her retreating back,

"You know what? I'm starting to think that a broken leg fits you so much better."

_**

* * *

Sakura's, Garden**_

Mikan was in full concentration that late afternoon. She was sipping tea and absentmindedly doodling on her Physics worksheet. It would be difficult to rub it off later, but, oh well, that was for later.

Flowers surrounded the garden. Yuka loved flowers. Orange roses, to be precise. Yellow, red, violet, black… their garden was like a crayon box.

"Pray tell, what is my _lovely _sister doing here?"

Mikan snapped back and turned around to see her brother. "Hello, Tsubasa." He ruffled her hair and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"You didn't answer my question," Tsubasa said, sitting on the chair across him and served himself some cake. He took a bite, but then immediately choked and drowned it with a glass of water. "Hell, what is _that _you're eating?"

Unblinkingly, Mikan replied, "It's spinach cake."

"Hell? Does it even _go _with tea?"

"Oh, snap out of it. You've been living with me since and you _know _the kind of food I _have _to eat."

"Yes, _that_." He rolled his eyes and instead stirred a cup of tea. "_Have_, not _want_. You know, this is a free country. What you eat outside of school won't reach their ears."

"That's what you think." Mikan said darkly. "You know Alice Academy. People have a way of knowing things. It's like the Upper East Side."

"Hmm…" Tsubasa tapped his fingers against the table. "I recall those times when they found out about that girl… what's her name? She and I were sno—"

"Oh, how charming, but I don't need to know about my brother's _private _life, hear?"

"Yes, _madam_."

It was a while before Mikan suddenly asked him. "Hey, Tsubasa?"

"Listening."

"If…" Mikan hesitated. Will her brother answer seriously? Well, it was worth a try. "If you were asked what you want _me _to have right at this moment… what would it be?"

Tsubasa snorted. "A life."

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "No, seriously, Tsubasa. I mean, I'm breathing. I'm living. I have a life."

"No, I'm the serious one here, little sister." Mikan blinked, staring at her brother. He _did _look serious. "Face it. You don't have a life. Now do you know what I want you to do right now?"

Shaking her head, Mikan said, "No."

Tsubasa looked confident when he crossed his legs and played with the spinach cake he didn't want to gobble. "Ask me."

Raising an eyebrow, she obliged, "What do you want me to do right now?"

Without missing a beat, Tsubasa had replied, "I want you to grab a jumper, go outside, and enjoy the world. After that, you can go home and tell me what you've seen."

Mikan was confused. Just what kind of reply was that? "That's weird."

Shrugging, she was given a cheeky grin. "No one said it wasn't."

* * *

_**Downing Street, Westminster, London**_

Rubbing her hands together and messily tucking her hair under the jumper, Mikan walked down the elegant streets of Downing. The leaves rustled and the branches screeched against brick walls. Stray cats purred and dug on metal trash bins.

Mikan had no idea why her brother would make her walk around London. The street is too formal for Mikan's preference, but her parents loved it there. They said they feel respected. Mikan often scoffed at that excuse with her brothers behind their parents' backs. It housed the Palace of Westminster and countless of West End attractions, but Mikan hasn't grew tired of it.

Perhaps she really _does _need to go out sometimes.

Cars zoomed past. She glanced at Big Ben. It was quarter to seven. Lights flickered open to illuminate path walks.

Mikan heaved a sigh as she took in step after step. The brick walls and iron gates seemed the same with every house she passes by. Then again, Mikan isn't known for being firm and stuff. With each stroll, she was driven to her land of dreams.

_The final __performer, a world-class ballerina. She twirls around the stage, leaps on her toes, prances around fancily. Everyone is entranced. They are amazed. Mikan Sakura. Her name is music to the classics. She is like a bell of utmost wonder. Tchaikovsky's legendary music plays in the background. It was amazing._

_Every day I see my dream.__  
__Every day I see my, every day I see my dream.__  
__Every day I see my dream.__  
__Ev ev every day I see my dream._

_Wait— what?_

A stereo was blasting its speakers off, completely unnatural with the quiet traditional aura of Downing Street. Mikan looked around. She was in the downtown part of the street. Grey houses, a bit worn out, ghetto, ghetto, ghetto.

And loud music.

Yes, loud music.

It could've woken up the whole neighborhood, if they were sleeping. Or perhaps that was just an exaggeration. After all, Mikan is well known for that specifically.

It commanded her to follow the music. She rounded the corner where she thought she heard the music from, disregarding the disgusted looks from the posh-looking women strolling down the road.

_Every day I see my dream.__  
__Every day I see my, every day I see my dream.__  
__Every day I see my dream.__  
__Ev ev every day I see my dream._

"Natsume?"

To her, it didn't even seem like Natsume. Same black hair, same piercing eyes. But he did not look bored and stuff. He was up on his feet, dancing like he did that day he danced _Right Round_ in front of Mikan. He was fast. His movements were fierce and swift. Beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead, down his neck, down his torso.

_Oh, sweet mother._

The v-neck shirt fit him like a glove. She could make out those abs from the dancing. She could _freaking _make them out. Well, she was a teenager, with those things called _hormones_, and, well, the rest is pretty self-explanatory.

But her eyes went back to his awesome movements.

Natsume's hands moved like they were weightless and boneless. They were synchronized with the music, flowing, waving.

Mikan was at a lost for words. She couldn't describe what Natsume was doing. It was amazing… she'd never seen anything like it before. She never paid much attention with it back in the Academy. People don't always believe that hip hop and breakdancing can go long ways. The Academy was more focused on classical ballet, ballroom dancing...

"Barbie."

* * *

**_Sakura's, Dining Room_**

"Hello, squirt."

"Hello, _piche_."

"Not nice, Youichi, not nice."

Youichi sent his brother a dark look when Yuka stopped giving him the _Don't swear _face. Tsubasa chuckled and chewed on his fried greens.

"Where's Mikan?" Izumi asked, looking around the table. "She's not home yet?"

"I'm not sure," Yuka frowned. "I think I heard her in the kitchens a while ago."

"Ah, that's not Mikan," Tsubasa butted in, "She went out half past seven, until eight. That was Youichi."

Another glare. Youichi didn't say anything but his eyes shouted enough vulgarity in ten different languages to his older brother.

"Alright, Tsubasa," Yuka said, turning to her son with eyebrows together, "Where'd you send your sister."

Giving her a big grin, he said, "I told her to get a life."

_**

* * *

St. James Park, Westminster**_

Mikan swung her legs as she rolled the cold water bottle on her hands. It was a half hour before eight, and the sun was getting ready to set. It was like a painting, as she stared at the lake with the setting sun reflecting on it. Mixtures of red, orange and yellow canvassed on the calm waters. Mikan couldn't help but admit that perhaps, just a tad bit, Tsubasa was right. She hasn't been doing anything else besides ballet. She enjoyed dancing, though. She could spend all her life just dancing, and she'd be happy. But every once in a while… _I guess this isn't so bad_, she thought.

Natsume jumped down the bench they were sitting on. Mikan watched in interest; he was entrancing. He walked towards the lake, grabbed a flat rock, and threw it on the waters. It leaped. Thrice.

Mikan was amazed. "How did you _do _that?"

She didn't know that was possible.

Natsume shrugged, not looking at her, but on the lake. "No big deal."

Mikan's eyes bulged. _No big deal? No big deal? Kid me not, I didn't even know that could happen! _"But that's amazing!"

"Barbie, that was just a _rock_."

"A _leaping _rock!" she corrected him, jumping off the bench as well. She approached Natsume and stood before him, looking up at his serene face.

He was beautiful.

She'd give him that. It was as if that face completed him. His eyes bore into space, piercing yet quite, quite gentle. She could see the various colors of the setting sun mixing along with the red orbs. Right then, she decided that Natsume was the best hot stud she'd ever seen in real life.

"What?" His question didn't sound so annoyed. In fact, it was nothing like that. They drifted from his mouth like a soft exhale. Mikan continued to stare, just stare, at him.

"Nothing."

"That took you quite long, eh?"

Mikan shook her head, smiling. She liked Natsume. He was cool. And he was so liberal. "Hey, Natsume?"

"Hn." She took that as the Natsume Hyuuga translation for, "Yes?"

"What did you write on that paper during Sociology?"

Natsume snorted. He plopped down on the ground, legs wide, knees bent, arms atop. "Isn't that supposed to be personal?"

"Mine wasn't."

"Maybe you should watch your mouth next time," he rolled his eyes.

"That's not nice."

"What are you, preschool?"

"Pardon me, _Lord Hyuuga_," she scoffed, "Not everyone speaks you."

"It's no requirement, Barbie. You just have to be, what's that? _Sweet_."

"…I won't comment on that. This conversation is _finito_."

"You don't enjoy losing, do you?"

"Who does?" Mikan sat on the ground herself, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I grew up wanting to become on the top. I want to be the best in everything I can do. It's… quite hard growing up with a family who are always aiming. You have to be unique. That is probably the reason I chose to dance. My brothers don't dance," she laughed, "They rather be _dead_ than be caught wearing leotards! Papa's far too serious, and mum's got better things to do than dance."

"You're saying ballet is your last resort." Natsume scoffed. "Fact, not opinion."

Mikan rolled her eyes, "No. It is _not_. No one in the family happens to find dancing as enjoyable as _I _do. Thankfully, it's not just luck."

"Right," he chuckled, "That's what you keep telling yourself."

She was quiet for a minute, when she heard Natsume chuckle. It was low but melodious. It wasn't like a singing crow or something of the sort.

And so, that same day Mikan decided Natsume's a handsome young lad, she also decided to call him a 'Piece of Art'.

"This is where you live?"

"Yes, and stop looking at me like that."

Raising his hands, Natsume said with a smirk, "Defensive."

"I am not!" Mikan gasped, then crossed her arms, a smile playing along her sweet red lips. "Thank you. For tonight, I mean." She gave him a cheeky grin. "I don't _despise _you with a burning passion, Natsume. Keep that in mind, yes?"

He raised one eyebrow amusedly before turning his back on her and the big iron gates, pocketing his hands and walking away.

Mikan shook her head with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, won't I?"

He waved her off, and Mikan took that, along with his _Hn_, a _Yes_.

* * *

_**Sakura's, Mikan's Room**_

"Hey, Tsubasa tends to be a woman-eater and a big prat, but he's one nutcracker, too."

Mikan smiled to herself as she took out her clothes for tomorrow. Hotaru said through the phone, in such a bored tone, "_What'd he do? Crack your nut-sized brain?"_

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "Har, har. Funny, Hotaru. You're brilliant."

_"I don't need to be told."_

"Whatever. I'm going to bed. Good night."

**

* * *

Author's Note**: If I got the locations wrong, please tell me! I don't live in London so I'm a bit clueless with this. I only rely to extensive research and the awesome powers of Google *big grin*. Though the sunset isn't much of a surprise, it's quite odd for me to write a story with the sun setting at eight when here, it sets late at five to six.


	7. Bulletproof

**Chapter 7: **_**Broken**_

"_Because you need to realize that not every pretty thing comes from something as pretty as it is."_

_Been there, done that messed around__  
__I'm having fun, don't put me down__  
__I'll never let you sweep me off my feet__  
__This time, baby, I'll be bulletproof..._

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Room C**_

Lacy Smith minimized her presentation and looked around hopefully, wordlessly asking for a comment, a suggestion— anything.

It didn't come.

She suddenly grew nervous. What did it mean? Didn't they like her script? She worked hard for it. It was pretty twisted, a little out of the typical masquerade-type Romeo and Juliet everyone portrayed. It came on her when she was going around the public library, scouting for a book. Romeo and Juliet was the most hackneyed classic she knew and since it was her— their— last year, she wanted to make it memorable, even if it was just the Halloween show.

Mikan Sakura was the Class Representative, mainly because she was the most sociable person around with the talent to pair it off. She was standing at the very back of the room, her eyes trained so evenly at the windows outside.

"Uh, Mikan?" Lacy finally asked, a little anxious.

Mikan turned, absolutely baffled. "What? Oh. _Oh! _I'm sorry— I was just wondering the things we can all do with that plot. It's absolutely amazing! I think we're putting up a wonderful play." She turned to her classmates, a pale shade of red visible on her cheeks. "I excused everyone for last period so we can get started on casting calls as soon as possible."

Everyone resigned their agreement after she did. Lacy smiled. She had to get started right away. After all, it was not everyday, nor it would by everyone, you'd see _this_ version of Romeo and Juliet. Slowly, people filed out of the room.

They didn't know, however, that Mikan Sakura, the Leaping (Limping, according to her genius and impassive robot of a best friend) Star, was actually looking at Natsume Hyuuga, the young man with the mysterious dark life.

She didn't tell anyone. She didn't want to tell anyone. She and he could talk, she knew that, but they didn't mix well, even as friends. She knew they would _never _be in the same league. She was 'up there' while he… he was just another person who knew how to break-dance.

Immediately, she pushed this thought away. No one would care whoever she become friends with. Mikan liked being friends with every person she passed by on the street. If so, why was she thinking such thoughts? She and Natsume would be very good friends. Maybe they already were. But that would start and stop there.

It's not like she wanted anything more than that. No, sir, it's nothing like that.

* * *

Ruka couldn't sit still, and though he tried to cover it up (he even resorted to making a joke about it being his 'time of the month' and got a painful offended hit from a classmate), he knew there was only one person he wasn't fooling: Natsume Hyuuga.

His best friend knew from the way he walked to the way his eyes danced that something was not right. He raised the question and Ruka didn't even bother lying. He just said that it was "something I need to take care of".

His father had found out where he is.

It was troubling for Ruka. He knew, of course, that it was wrong to run away in the first place. He knew, as long as he lived, he can never escape his father. He couldn't even remember why he advanced to such tactics. His father would have found him, eventually. What scared him was not that he probably would be awfully condemned— it was the fact that his mother knew, and that she was probably having a hard time back 'home'.

Natsume was watching his best friend. He didn't know what was causing his edginess, but he could take a guess. He never knew the Nogis, but he's heard and seen their names appear in media. If there was something that could throw Ruka off, it would probably be family-related.

What absolutely sucked was that he knew _he couldn't do anything about it_. Natsume was just another kid in the slums with barely a parent. What could he do against a man with the power to permanently terminate him— and worst, his little sister? There was nothing. He was equivalent to a squirrel they shoot in the woods, a piece of food scrap they throw off the bin.

Nothing. That was Natsume.

He shouldn't even be bothering with the Sakura girl. She didn't deserve to even talk with a guy like him. Why was he letting these people in his life? Koko, Kitsuneme, Ruka and Aoi were enough to spin his head around. He didn't need new acquaintances.

And then he remembered.

_He needed these people_.

That was what his 'guardian' said. If he wanted to be rich with the moves he cooked up, then he needed the audience. He needed connections. Alice Academy of the Arts can answer that for him. That was why he needed to stop being so impassive with people. They were keys to him rising up from the stupid hole he's to call a house. That is, until he finished high school, get a suitable job, go to college and work his arse off.

He can't do that, however, when Ruka was obviously having more problems than him.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

"I am not reading from Romeo an' Juliet."

Koko shook his head like a kid would to a mother, saying he refuse to eat vegetables.

"He's right," Sumire rolled her eyes from behind Mikan. "It's a waste of time. Hurry up and move on to better candidates."

"Well, he needs to be _someone_," Mikan argued.

Koko scowled. "I was being a good tree until you decided to change the play."

"_I _didn't change the play. _Mr. Narumi _did. Now, if you would ever so kindly _be a gentleman _and read these lines off the script?"

It was a disaster.

"Perhaps not," Mikan muttered moments later, pushing Koko from the stage, one eye twitching on its own in irritation. She quickly scanned her eyes through the list of C-Majors after scribbling a note beside _Yome, Kokoroyumi_. She was about to call up Natsume when she thought better of it. Of course Natsume wouldn't want to act. He'd undoubtedly rather die. She crossed his name and called for the last name. "Ruka, you're next."

Ruka, who was helping the Props Committee paint a moon, accidentally dropped the brush he was holding and almost tripped on a bucket of paint when he picked it up. "W— What?" he stuttered.

Mikan rolled her eyes, but with humor. "You're next, Angel Eyes. Read the lines of Romeo."

"There's some mistake," he laughed uneasily, "I didn't plan on acting. I'm more of the face behind the curtains, if you get me."

"Yes, Ruka, I do get you." She's heard of the line more than once. "But since we're limited, we need _every male's_ participation. Now, come up and read page twelve. We don't have all day."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Ground Floor, Hallway**_

_**C Majors Proudly Presents**_

_**The Romeo and Juliet Theater Production**_

**Starring**_**:**_

**Capulet **James Martinez

** Lady Capulet **Geneva Adams

**Nurse **Sumire Shouda

**Tybalt **Johanna Walker

**Petruchio **Allen Fitzgerald

**Capulet's Cousin **Brian Gustav

**The Servingmen **

**Sampson **Gabriella McAllister

**Gregory **Randy Zak

**Peter **Jacqueline Carter

**Juliet Capulet **Luna Koizumi

**Escalus **Phillip Williams

**Paris **Christopher Marcus

**Mercutio **Nathaniel Winters

**Paris' Page **Paige Greene

**Friar Lawrence **Wyatt Palmer

**Friar John **Michael Schuster

**Apothecary Man **Elena Stanford

**Montague **Angelo Hawkins

**Lady Montague **Priscilla Majors

**Benvolio **Blaire Vanderbilt

**Abram **Aryanna Davidson

**Balthasar **Margaret O'Reilly

**Romeo Montague **Ruka Nogi

(**Minor Casts, **next page)

"_No pish_," Koko's eyes were wide from reading the character list. He right on yelled on Ruka's ear, "Dude, you're _poxy _Romeo!"

"No offense, mate," Kitsuneme grinned, "But I've always seen you as _Juliet_."

"Gee, thanks," Ruka shoved their hands away, "Really helps." Eyeing a bobbing brown bun somewhere at the back, Ruka disentangled himself from his friends and asked Mikan, "I can't act."

"Rubbish," Mikan waved him off, "Of course you can. You auditioned, remember?"

"I was just goofing about," Ruka argued, "I wasn't being serious because I told you, I _don't want to act_."

"Well, I'd like to see you being serious," Luna suddenly walked in beside Mikan, one hand around Mikan's waist as if they've been friends since. "Personally, I think you're going to make a wonderful Romeo."

"Of course he will," Mikan said, "I wouldn't have casted him so."

Sumire chose that moment to leap into their conversation. Her arms were crossed and she was scowling. "Why am I playing the Nurse? Can you _envision _me playing goody-goody to someone like," she nodded her head towards Luna's smug face, "_her_?"

"Come on, girls," Mikan sighed, "No fighting."

"U-huh, easy for you to say," Sumire glared at Luna. "Listen, doll-face. If you do _anything _to ruin this performance with my mum watching, you better be sure I've wished you to _break your leg_. Literally."

"You're really in no position to say that," Luna smiled sweetly, "But don't worry. I'll be _really _careful not to break my leg."

"I still haven't decided to Romeo." Ruka piped, "Sakura, I can't do this."

"Ruka Nogi," Mikan's voice rose, "You are going to be Romeo Montague whether you like it or not. We've limited decent male actors, and you are apparently one of them. Thank God you are."

"No need for that tone," Ruka grumbled. "Alright, I'm just saying, don't be disappointed."

"Doesn't bother me the least bit, honey," Mikan laughed gaily, "I _know _you won't disappoint me!"

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

"You're being awfully kind to Luna." Hotaru observed over her cold salad of lettuce and tomatoes. "I could've sworn she wanted to bite your head off."

"_Wanted_," Mikan noted, waving at a few classmates. "Luna's not a bad person. She's an ally."

"An ally," Hotaru repeated slowly, and then asked, "When did you get so smart?"

"My friends might disown me," she whispered, then laughed. "Tell me how you got away from the play."

"If I tell you my secrets, you might start using them against me."

"I'm too much of a barmpot, remember?"

"Yes, but your neurons will develop in time. Enough yapping. I want to get to my next class as soon as possible."

Mikan eyed her salad with a frown. Then her gaze travelled to Natsume's table two spaces away. It was hard to miss them; Koko and Kitsuneme were putting on again another show. On their table were cans of carbonated drinks and packs of chips. She loved being a ballet dance but she missed pigging out on junk…

_No_, she scolded at herself. _You love ballet. That's why you're willing to give up _everything_._

A sly voice proceeded. _Everything?_

_Everything._

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performing Theatre**_

"It's a complete catastrophe."

Mikan adamantly shook her head and gave Ruka a reassuring squeeze. "No, it's not! You're anxious, that's all. You don't have anything to be jumpy about. Come on, read that line over there again."

Ruka took a deep breath. He couldn't stop it. His father said it was alright to finish his senior year, but he was going to be monitored. _Monitored_, he knew, meant being tailed 24/7 by some creepy guys in black suits, or maybe a 'transfer student' who can speak in a language only Ruka can understand. He was probably the only person in the theater who can see a pair lurking somewhere on the seats.

Luna spoke, "Oh, Romeo, even if you were named any other else, I'd adore you no less. But I don't think either of us can dismiss the reality of our past."

Ruka stumbled over the words, "It's unfeasible to overlook what has been done between our families. Mine have viciously slain your cousins and yours have disturbed mine for years."

"I don't wish to part here, Romeo. Not here, certainly not now."

"I— I—" He fumbled with his script and it fell on the floor; Ruka groaned. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Mikan sighed. "Everyone, take five." She started towards Ruka, just near enough for her to hear Luna say;

"Be glad you're no minger."

"Ruka, is there anything you're having problems with?" Mikan asked, patting him on the back. "Anything at all you want to talk about?"

"It's the nerves," Ruka fibbed. "It's nothing."

"Love, nothing is _never _nothing," she said philosophically. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But you've got some friends who'd honestly like to help you out. Remember that."

_Mind taking that piece of advice for yourself? _A sleazy voice in her mind asked.

_There's nothing to talk about, _she answered almost defensively.

_Whatever you say, sweetheart._

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Car Park**_

"Hotaru?" Mikan frowned. "You're not getting on the car?"

Hotaru eyed them again suspiciously— Ruka Nogi. She saw him talking to a bunch of tux-clad and dark-tinted-glasses-wearing men that looked equally intimidating. He appeared nervous and twitchy, and when more students were piling out of the Academy, she noticed them dart around a corner and vanish in a posh limousine.

She could've sworn he came with Natsume as a pity scholar student.

* * *

_**Sakura Manor, Mikan's Room**_

"You've been spacing out," Mikan observed, and Hotaru merely raised a brow. "What's the matter? Do you want to go home? It's alright, if you're tired. We can do this again tomorrow. It's a Saturday, anyway."

"No, I was wondering, actually, why you casted Nogi as Romeo. Of course he was better than the rest but when he's on stage, he acts like a bucket of ice cold water's above his head if he gets wrong once."

"I think it's the jitters," Mikan said patiently. "People get tense during their first time."

"That's a lot of _first_s for Nogi then."

"Ruka was actually _really good _during the auditions, though," Mikan frowned, turning back to the script she's been rereading. "Better than most, actually. He's a wonderful actor. Maybe he should've gotten it than dancing, if given the chance. I don't know why he slipped during rehearsals though. To be honest, he was really bad today."

"He looks to good to be with Hyuuga's lot."

"Ruka?" Mikan laughed, though did not look up. "You have to be kidding me. Alright," she sobered a little, when Hotaru scowled. "He _does _look loads better than the rest of them. And he's got that kind of Prince-y aura, you know? Maybe one of his parents was rich."

"_One_? Try two."

"Two? No, no, no. That's not possible. Ruka's a slumdog, not a slumdog millionaire. God save the Queen if he were, the way some have been treating him. I don't think it's any excuse for the well-off to toss around the barren around like an empty can of cat food. It's too stereotypical."

Hotaru eyed her for quite a moment. "You're not my best friend."

"What? Why?" Mikan asked, offended.

"You were the one who didn't want them around when they first got in to the Academy. You said they weren't C-Major material."

"Then maybe I changed my mind."

"No, you're not my best friend."

Mikan sighed and rolled her eyes, quite amused. "I learned, alright? Natsume gave me a hand on what it's really about. Being C-Major doesn't matter where you're from but what you're fighting for."

"Stop being a philosophical film character, you're not Albus Dumbledore."

"No, I mean… it's the _dance, _Hotaru." Mikan stood up from her bed and started prancing around her room. "See? Doesn't it feel so liberating, doing something you want, not something you're forced to do? People think, just because you're from a well-off family that you get the absolute bests of everything as per required of you. We both get the wrong ends of the stories, hm?"

"I don't understand but you never make much sense before, so I guess this is alright."

"Silly. What I mean to say is, don't you just sometimes want to the impossible? Like be in other people's shoes for one day, just to see what their world looks like, and what we look like to them."

"Boring, snobbish, eggheads, dunderheads. Of course, not including me."

Mikan started twirling really fast in her socks, until she fell down on bed, right below Hotaru's face, who blankly looked at her, all used to her crazy antics. "I think there's a world out there that we should _really _see. Something we've never been before. Something—"

* * *

_**Tower Hamlets, London**_

"I did not mean this."

"You said you wanted to see something you've never seen before?"

"Yes, but…"

"Think of it as _research, _Mikan."

"Research?" Mikan screeched. "What kind of research is this, pray tell?"

Hotaru didn't want to tell Mikan about her plan. She had grown quite curious over the Nogi boy. There was certainly something wrong in the image, but to lure a little closer than comfort to him is to use her best friend's fascination through Natsume Hyuuga. They needn't to be obvious, just subtle snooping by walking down the crummy streets,

"Mikan, how long was the car ride?"

She blinked, not expecting that question. Then she replied, "About twenty-five minutes, I guess."

"Twenty-five minutes. _By car_. Now, I'd guess Hyuuga often walks or skates home."

"Walk or skate?" Mikan gasped. "But that would take him _days_!"

"Not days, you dimwit, or else he would've just slept outside school premises."

"Then how did he get in Westminster that day I saw him?"

"Maybe he didn't want to go home."

"That doesn't sound nice. Why would anyone not want to go home?"

Hotaru rolled her eyes and then pointed at a shoddy-looking house with a cracked door and stained windows. The woods were breaking apart and the hinges were creaking. Ignoring Mikan's _"Hotaru, it's rude to point!"_, she said, "Now tell me. Is _that _some place you'd want to go home to?"

"But family is where the home is. No matter the place, as long as your family's there…" She trailed off, because just that moment, a lady, beaten and tears, carried a baby out of the house, running from an obviously drunk and soiled man with a beer belly who waved a bottle high. "Forget I said that."

"See?" Hotaru said, and pulled out two bottles of water from her bag, handing one to Mikan after each wiping the tips. "This is what that _other world _looks like. It's not pretty."

"Why are you showing this to me?"

"Because you need to realize that not every pretty thing comes from something as pretty as it is."

"But people shouldn't be judged from where they come from." She said, forcing what she uttered last night.

"Take a look around." Cue a screaming lady and a loud bang. "This is not a place for us. Whoever's from here is not a good person."

"You told me to never underestimate anyone."

"I also told you to never overestimate people, either."

"I don't get where this is going, Hotaru. You said you wanted research. What research is this?"

Hotaru already had what she was finding for moments ago. Someone who was undoubtedly Ruka Nogi rode past them in not anymore a limousine but a rundown cab, yet accompanied by two same intimidating tux-clad guys from before. "I already got it. Let's go home."

There was no need for Natsume Hyuuga to break her little heart with his lies.

Because the woman who ran out with a kid on her arms looked a hell lot like Natsume. It was either a young mother or a mature-looking sister.

* * *

_**Hyuuga Residence**_

"_No, I'm not coming home."_

"Don't be stupid Aoi."

"_He might hurt the baby."_

"I won't let him hurt the kid."

"_Mum promised that too… and look where it's gotten us, Natsume."_

"It's late, Aoi. You _have _to go home."

"_No, not until he apologizes."_

"You're staying on the streets forever then."

"_I don't care!"_

"I do, alright!" Natsume sighed, finally losing his cool. But this was his sister. She was supposed to be unbroken, but thanks to him for deluding himself in a fantasy-filled world for a year, she was broken beyond repair. She was a porcelain doll laden all over the carpet in smithereens, unfixable. But at the same time, she was bulletproof. Because he knew nothing can hurt her anymore, nothing is worse than what she'd gone through. "You're my sister."

"_I'm not your baby anymore, Natsume."_

"I can try. You can still be. You still are."

"_There's another baby under the roof… and it's not me."_

She was fifteen years old. _Fifteen years old_. How can Fate wreck the life of a young fifteen-year-old with so many dreams yet to happen?

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_Sorry, I'm no Briton. I had to do extensive research for the slummy parts of London (please don't be offended with what I wrote; if you are, please do tell me so I can appease to your better nature).

Pish – "crap"

Poxy – "crappy"; "third-rate"

Barmpot – "idiot"

Minger – "breathlessly unattractive"

God save the Queen – "We are fucked"

I am considering if I should give the first few chapters a light editing. What say you? And I am terribly sorry I abandoned this. It's wrong, and this time, I promise to update it a little often! Do leave a comment or a review, I'd like to know your thoughts. :)


	8. Animal I've Become

**Chapter 8: **_**Animal I Have Become**_

"_Why should one's financial status be vital in making friends?"_

_I can't escape myself__  
__So many times I've lied__  
__But there's still rage inside__  
__Somebody get me through this nightmare__  
__I can't control myself…_

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

Hotaru Imai couldn't keep her eyes off Ruka Nogi.

Now, she wanted it to be clear. She had no romanticintuitions towards the blonde. Anyone who believed her best friend was wrong. In all actuality, she'd say Mikanliked the Hyuuga boy. Sure, she was friendly, but in the last couple of weeks, it started going beyond that phase. Mikan had gone through more detentions, thanks to him, consequently missing half of their rehearsal started getting a new reputation— a reputation that Hyuuga had a help in. Normally, Hotaru wouldn't mind. Mikan can go play and fool around with anyone, but Natsume Hyuuga is _bad news_.

But Mikan and Natsume's Romeo and Juliet tragedy was not the priority. Since both can still keep their hormones intact, Hotaru would bother with the Nogi boy more. Everyday, she'd see him getting to and fro the same black limousine that changed plates twice a day. Five times during school, he talks in hushed whispers through his phone, most of time, in between the changing of classes. Also, he had been spacing during normal classes, although Mikan is also known for doing that lately, which led Hotaru to her remarkable Imai conclusions:

1.) Nogi has a wife and a son.

2.) Nogi is in trouble with the FBI.

3.) Nogi is rich.

3.1.) Refer to _Mikan Sakura_.

3.2.) Mental Note: Actually, don't. Never refer to _Mikan Sakura_.

4.) Nogi was bribed.

5.) Nogi is engaged with a scandal.

6.) Nogi is in the Mafia.

6.1.) He is a murderer.

6.2.) Involved in a scam.

6.3.) Refer to _The Godfather._

7.) Nogi is actually an old man with dwarfism.

7.1.) Refer to _The Orphan_

8.) Nogi is a local/international star (eg. Actor, Singer, etc.) in disguise.

8.1.) Refer to _Fanfiction(.)net_, _Fictionpress(.)net, Wattpad(.)com, Quizilla(.)com,_ etc.,and the cheap book stands.

8.2.) Mental Note: Actually, don't. Never refer to anything referred by _Mikan Sakura_.

She decided she liked the first one. Of course, the second and fifth's good, too.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Class C-1**_

"So?" Mikan asked with bated breath as soon as Mr. Narumi set down the folder, a fresh copy of the new play Lacy had written. "What do you think?"

Mr. Narumi thought of his answer for a moment. "It's very promising."

"'_Very promising'_?" Mikan scoffed, and waved her hands in the air in disbelief. "It's the epitome of brilliance!"

"I don't know, Mikan," he bit his lip. "Do you think Alice Academy of the Arts is ready for—" He peered over the script once more. "— '_Vampire Juliet_'?"

"It's Halloween!" said Mikan deprecatingly.

"Not everyone likes Stefani—"

"Stephenie," Mikan corrected automatically, having been done so by an obviously offended fan during rehearsal pep talk.

"_Yes_," he said curtly, obviously not expressing his approval to someone who's read the series. It bamboozled Mikan when Mr. Narumi is every bit the type to fall for it. "As I was saying, not everyone likes Stephenie Meyer."

"There's _Vampire Academy_."

"You mean there's more?"

"And then _The Morganville Vampires_."

He blinked. "First, Washington, and now New Jersey?"

"I'm guessing you wouldn't want to hear about _Vampires of New England_ then…" Mr. Narumi looked stumped, and so she immediately rushed to the next book she memorized off the list she got from a blog of an American vampire-lover. "_Got Fangs_?"

"What? No, I don't!"

"_Cirque Du Freak_? _Evernight_? _House of Night_? _Vampire Diaries_?Oh, this one: _Blue Bloods_. I've read that one and Abaddon's quite fit, if you must know."

"Abaddon is an angel, Mikan. You can't call an angel _fit_."

"Melissa De La Cruz did!" She grumbled, and then continued in her hot frenzy. "_iDrakula_? Oh, please, they say it's a good one! They have _Twitter_ and IM!"

"_iDrakula_?" Mr. Narumi repeated, aghast. "_iDrakula_?"

"Well, pardon me, I spent a whole night looking for vampire-themed books, and they're not half as bad as you think _Twilight_ is!"

"I do _not _think _Twilight _is bad," Mr. Narumi completely denied.

"Oh, shoot me, sir," Mikan rolled her eyes. "I know you made that _Facebook_ fan page with fifty thousand members."

That clammed him up.

"We compromised." Mikan twittered.

"If I can recall, we did not."

"Alright, just take this as something we compromised_. _You wanted _Romeo and Juliet_, we want something a little modern. Cue _Vampire Juliet_."

Mr. Narumi and Mikan had a little staring battle before the latter shrugged. "Alright. It's your performance."

"No worries," Mikan grinned, saluting him as she exited the room. "It's your class."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

"Gather up, people! No, Koko, drop that paintbrush. Drop it. _Drop it_. Good. Cullies, it's imperative that I announce this, hurry up!" When everyone was set and ready and staring at her from the stage, seats and ceilings (_How did they even get there?_, she thought), Mikan gave everyone that signature smile of hers. "Why don't we all give our resident playwright, Lacy Smith, a clap on the back for the ace and approved script?"

"Approved?" Christopher Marcus asked from one of the seats, where one of the staffs was taking his measurements for his Count Paris costume. "You mean I'm really going to be a vampire?"

"Yes, Chrissy," Mikan rolled her eyes. "You're vampire Paris to vampire Juliet."

"Is Juliet going to die?"

Mikan blinked. "Why'd you ask?"

"No reason," Christopher said, and then muttered to the one taking his measurements. "Cheers to the Queen, Luna Koizumi's killing herself on stage."

"I'm not sure about that…" Margareth O'Reilly muttered, who was playing Balthasar with an unflattering moustache, as she scanned through the script.

"Naturally she's supposed to die," Christopher rolled his eyes. "She's twitted Juliet."

"Suchlike suits you, Paris," Margareth laughed.

"Hiya, mates, I'm not through here." Mikan started calling for their attention again. "It's the beginning of October meaning you've got a week and a half to memorize your lines— don't scowl like that, Chrissy, Ruka's got it worse than you and he's not complaining— and then the rest for rehearsals. Any questions?"

Koko raised his hand. "Can I still be a tree?"

"No, honey. You're a vampire relative." She added after an afterthought, just to warn him, "And you're dancing."

Koko, however, disregarded it and had one notion bothering him: "Will I turn into a bat?"

"Vampires don't turn into bats, Koko." Koko's face fell and sensing another senseless argument that would probably stretch on until the bell rings, Mikan suddenly added, "Not in Lacy's version, at the least. Any road," she hurried before another word was spoken, "I will need everyone's participation and I have to warn you, anyone who will otherwise is going to be debarred. Or well, at least removed from the C-Majors, and we all know how important that is this year."

There were no questions. C-Majors are always the first ones in line when producers, choreographers and basically the big people tick off the AAA list of graduates. It was basically like Harvard, Yale and Stanford and the big firms and companies.

And Mikan was the top of the list for the ballerinas. She wasn't going to let this Halloween production ruin her record.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Integrated Calculus**_

"You think an awful lot about your art, don't you?"

Mikan laughed. "I am a little surprised you referred my dance as an art. I'm impressed, Natsume_._"

Natsume merely shrugged and leaned against his chair, swinging it, with his feet atop the desk. "Just saying you take this a little too seriously."

"Flunk the play and I flunk the crowd. Flunk the crowd and I flunk the board. Flunk the board and I flunk the people raking for my name."

He chuckled. She didn't bother much now that it was on her expense. "You have a miserable life, don't you?"

"Oh, hush, if Mr. Jinno hears us again, we get a one-way ticket to detention."

"And I thought you enjoyed my rather enticing company."

"I do, but my best friend thinks you're a bad influence."

"Does she now?" he muttered.

He reminded himself again to not fool his mind over the Sakura girl. She sticks far too close for comfort and its best if people don't stick around him. He's not the kind of person rich innocent people should bother with. He wasn't a part of their league, and didn't come close to it either.

Her friend's right.

He's a bad influence.

"Please don't take it seriously," Mikan said hurriedly, "Hotaru thinks it's diverting my attention for the play, but I tell her it isn't. She can be a Mother Hen without trying."

"Mothers know best, hm?"

And the conversation caught dead there.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio**_

"So you finally think you're good enough to grace the lowly ones you're presence."

Natsume scowled darkly at Reo. "You think it's my fault I ended up with those Majors?"

"As serious as you are with the poxy play, I don't think Del Mak will be impressed with you dancing around in a tutu."

"I didn't get in the play. Not one of us did, except one. Ruka's Romeo so take it out on him."

"Nogi's not much of a challenge," Reo sneered. "He whimpers at the tone of anger, the sissy."

"You take that back—" he reached for Reo's shirt, but the teacher easily shoved him off.

"You may think you're strong and bad-arse, Hyuuga, but without your generous benefactor and so-called guardian, you wouldn't even be close to getting in the competition."

Natsume knew that, of course. One competitor pass ranged from £10.00, £12.50 and £15.00. A couple or three street performances would likely do the trick, but it wasn't always that lucky. People don't always appreciate the kind of 'art' he did. In addition to that, there're a heft load of dancers out there who are five times better than him and could easily swipe the £100 to £750 cash prize. He didn't want to bother with the vouchers and the shirts— what could he honestly do with that, eat for breakfast? Those didn't matter. The cash prize that would help him start off and the attention, however, would.

He had to drop his two jobs eventually because of the Academy and the rehearsals for the competition, so he couldn't otherwise go on with the contest without the Academy's help. Dropping out's useless and out of the question. He had to snatch the admiring attention of the right people to help him out. He couldn't do that alone, not with _Alice Academy of the Arts _stamped beside his name.

Natsume glared back at Reo Mouri. "Just show me the moves."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

Mikan's eyes squinted around the theater. When she was certain he wasn't around, she called for his buddy's attention. "Ruka, dear, where's Natsume?"

Ruka looked up from his script, which he was reading with Luna while both were being measured for their costumes. "Training with Reo for the NSD."

"Thanks," she smiled, and then turned to her best friend with question marks splattered all over her face. "NSD?"

"UK National Street Dance," Hotaru answered quite annoyingly, which was a little rare as she often answered Mikan's questions without sentiment.

"What's got your knickers on a twist?" Mikan frowned.

Hotaru Imai isn't one to dawdle. "I told you to stop it with Hyuuga," she glared.

Mikan laughed, a little strained. "I'm not doing anything wrong with him, Hotaru. We're friends, that's all there is."

"You're not even close to the definition of 'friends', Mikan!" Hotaru lowered her voice to avoid a scene, though she spoke with discernible resentment. "I told you to steer away from him. Do you think I'm making fun of this?"

"No, I don't, but I think you're overreacting and you're judging him too much," Mikan replied evenly. "You don't know half the things about Natsume."

"Neither do you," she spat.

Mikan grimaced; Hotaru rarely— no, _barely_ raised her tone—, so the sudden change of character's inexplicable. "I don't even know what's gotten into you lately. You space out, leave during classes and you scout around Tower Hamlets on almost a daily basis."

"And you get into detentions which is far worse than these 'crimes' I commit that you speak of."

"What's the matter with getting a detention or two every now and then?"

"It's not 'one' or 'two' or even 'every now and then'. It's become your daily basis and at least I go to Tower Hamlets after classes."

"I go to detention after classes," Mikan stated wryly but Hotaru wouldn't hear any of it.

"I think you're hanging with the wrong crowd. That is all I'm saying. If you've a big enough brain in your cranium, you'd understand."

"You sound like mum."

"I'm betting Yuka doesn't even know about this. I'm warning you now, Mikan. Another detention and this goes straight to her."

"Mum wouldn't care less about who I become friends with."

"Not unless they trigger the rebel in you."

A lightning staff called for help and Hotaru turned without another word, leaving Mikan to her thoughts. Surely, her best friend's wrong. Yuka's always been the one who told Mikan to make friends with everyone— friends are usually your stepping stone in the social world, the ones who will help you throughout. But still, she couldn't forget Hotaru's last words. She wasn't being rebellious by making friends with Natsume Hyuuga… was she?

* * *

_**Sakura Manor, Dining Room**_

Mikan knew something was wrong the moment she entered the house. It was far too quiet, and everyone's cars (in Youichi's case, his bike) were parked outside. She went to her room without seeing anyone, and a bath later, when she sat for dinner, she _knew _she was right.

"How was your day, Youichi?"

Asking the youngest was always the sign.

Youichi knew that too, and knew well that trying to plod won't help whoever's in trouble. "There was nothing much except the hype with the Halloween preparations."

"But that's not until the end of the month." Yuka sounded as if she was accusing her son for lying.

"Yes, but I'm— err— helping out." He cleared his throat. "For extra credit."

"And Tsubasa?"

So it's her fault, Mikan realized.

"Yes?" Tsubasa tried to appease to her stepmother's good side.

"Wipe your mouth, sweetheart."

Mission failed.

"Mikan."

She gulped. "Yes, mum?"

"You had to give your recitals to Luna, didn't you?"

"Yes, mum."

"And why is that?"

Her mother knew, of course, and so did everyone else. The question baffled her. Where was her mum going with this? "Because I broke my leg."

"And I suppose, given the state of your leg, it slows you down?"

She opted for being honest. "Most of the time, yes."

"Is that why you've been getting detentions lately?"

Mikan gulped. Hotaru was right, except for one small fact— she didn't need another detention for the school secretary to alert her mother about all this.

Her father cleared his throat. "Well, Mikan?"

Now she's done it. _Think fast, think fast, _she screamed at herself. Obviously, they wouldn't tell her parents about Natsume, but if she didn't, she'd get in an even bigger trouble after. She opted for being honest again. "I've been caught talking with a classmate."

"Everyday for the last month?" Yuka's eyebrows rose.

"Not everyday," she corrected hastily. "We usually talk and get carried away without realizing the presence of the teacher…" She trailed off. It sounded pretty stupid to her.

Her parents agreed. "That sounds quite shallow, Mikan."

"We just get carried away," she mumbled as an excuse, and fibbed just a little, "And I often need help with schoolwork."

"You're flunking?"

"No, dad!" Mikan said hastily. Her mother was concerned about her art, her father, about her education. It was like being caged sometimes in a cell with no door or window but just a tiny vent for air. "With the play and the recitals and everything else, I have to be really careful and work even harder, so I often ask for someone to help me out when I'm stuck with something but Mr. Jinno thinks I'm kidding about and…" She trailed off again. By the look of her parents' faces, they weren't buying it. Much.

"I think you're having a hard time," Yuka finally concluded. "You go out when it's dark and you started listening to the kind of music your brothers enjoy. I looked past those, passing is as a phase, but these detentions of yours are getting out of hand. Another pseudo-phase, young lady, and you will not like it being confined in your room until Christmas."

Her mother really had to sort out her issues.

* * *

_**Hyuuga Residence**_

Natsume leaned against the broken door of Aoi's room. It was broken during the pathetic fight and he didn't really have the heart to fix it, so when Aoi finally decided to go back, he's been sleeping against the jamb to make sure she and the baby didn't get into anything bad. He knew his father— as cutting as the admittance is, he technically came from the man's sperm— and he knew he wouldn't try anything funny unless he gets drunk and starts rambling off and hurting Aoi because she reminded him of their mother.

Apparently, he had gone out with a couple of bar friends and would surely return as the usual: inebriated, smashed, high.

Natsume wasn't sleeping with him not setting foot. The baby was already sleeping soundly beside Aoi, and nothing was heard in the pathetic excuse for a house but the clicking of his lighter. He couldn't and wouldn't risk Aoi and the baby's health just so he could drift to cloud nine.

The baby. He didn't want to admit it out loud because he knew it would hurt Aoi, but he didn't like the baby. In altogether, he didn't like the mess Aoi had gotten into, but he couldn't blame her wanting to be away. When Aoi was thirteen, she had real friends who were more or less aware of the state of her home. Her friends' parents took pity on her and they all took her in as their own. Aoi had that particular effect of making people fall for her naivety and way of life. That's why Natsume knew, no matter where he was, Aoi would be safe. He didn't count on anyone taking advantage of her— in her friend's house, no less.

But that was what happened and it was beyond his control. Aoi had to run away from her friends, bleeding, sweating and in tears. She pounded on Ruka's apartment, where Natsume stayed, and one look at her stained clothes and wrecked face was all he needed. The baby came nine months after. She explained the situation to her friend's parents. They agreed to take care of the baby, given her unstable state. The man, her friend's brother, was compensated. Natsume didn't like it one bit.

Her friend moved to America for a scholarship last September. The parents left the kid to the big brother, who was studying to be a medic in the local university. As soon as his mother, father and sister boarded the plane, he threw the kid on Aoi's arms.

Too caught up on cursing the vile man's bad luck towards her sister, he didn't realize that a man was already stomping his way towards Aoi's room.

* * *

_**Sakura Manor, Mikan's Room**_

"Yuka's got it bad today, huh?"

Mikan was startled to see and hear her stepbrother inside her bedroom, but realizing he trespassed on her turf, she scowled and said, "I thought I told you before to always knock before you enter?"

"I've been knocking on your door worse than a man telling you your house is on fire. I thought you killed yourself."

"Very funny," Mikan rolled her eyes, and scouted her things away so Tsubasa can occupy half the space on her bed. "What do you want?"

"Can I not visit my stepsister's room without wanting anything from her?" he asked innocently, and Mikan knew one thing about Tsubasa— he's not the innocent kind.

"No, seriously, Tsubasa, what's up?"

Deciding to be serious, he flounced on her bed, causing most of Mikan's stuffs to jump and threaten to fall. She scowled at him but he remained impassive. "Yuka dropped hints that someone should talk to you, but that you wouldn't listen to her anyway. Since Dad retreated to his study and Youichi plainly said _no_, I got stuck with the job."

"Oh, bliss," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, let's get this over with," he said, and hoisted himself a little to face Mikan, one hand carrying the weight of his head. "What's up with the change of character? I'm pretty sure you hated listening to, as Yuka put it," he made quotation marks, "'the kind of music' Youichi and I 'enjoy'."

"Stop making a big deal out of it," Mikan flustered, clicking away on her laptop and turning her back on his. "Mum didn't say anything when Youichi asked for a bike."

"That's because Youichi possesses an XY chromosome. Mothers are always harder on the XXs. Boys can take care of themselves."

"U-huh. If you're the apt definition of it, I'm not sure I should settle with that deduction."

There was a moment's silence until Tsubasa admitted, "Dad thinks you've gone to revolt. Something about being pressured."

"I'm glad that hits the spot," Mikan muttered.

"You mean you're actually rebelling?" Contrary to what she expected, Tsubasa sounded quite happy. "I can help you with that."

"No, I'm not! I was joking! Why is everyone thinking I'm being rebellious?"

"In case you're unmindful of your own, you never really struck as the type to wear caps and sneakers and fishnets unless ballet called for it."

Mikan scowled.

"Stop scowling, if the wind catches up, you're getting stuck with an even nastier face forever."

She hit him with the pillow.

"See? You're being rebellious again. You never hit me that soon."

She hit him again.

"You're losing ammo," he pointed out, and just when Mikan looked around, he hit her with the two pillows so hard, it made her roll down the floor. She winced at the pain it brought on her cast. Fortunately, he was able to reach for her laptop.

"Hey, don't close my tab!" She said, rising up from the floor, flinching in pain.

"I'm not," he told her, and started tapping the _Youtube _url on the address bar. Mikan peered over his back, lugging on him like a bear and totally ignoring her cast. When he started typing, however, she was shoved back with the warning, "Don't look!" When he was done, Tsubasa pulled her off the bed, pushed her on the wheelchair she's forced to use at home (her mother really needed to sort certain issues!) held her hands, and started prancing around to a broken unknown tune with a silly dance.

"What are we doing?" Mikan giggled. "This is mad! You'remad!"

"Oh, belt up!" Tsubasa said.

Not soon after, a song she recognized from his absurd music collection started playing out loud.

_I can't escape this hell__  
__So many times I've tried__  
__But I'm still caged inside__  
__Somebody get me through this nightmare__  
__I can't control myself__  
__  
_They were dancing around the room like pop-star wannabes (well, _Tsubasa _was; Mikan grudgingly remained half-bouncing on her wheelchair), using hair brushes and shoes as microphones, and her foot-long pillow as an imaginary guitar. Tsubasa started using her pillows and sheets as drum substitutes, his dark hair waving with every shake and turn of his head.

_So what if you can see the darkest side of me__  
__No one will ever change this animal I have become__  
__Help me believe it's not the real me__  
__Somebody help me tame this animal!__  
__This animal, this animal_

"What?" she laughed over the music booming around her room. It was liberating, what they were doing. It was nothing like ballet, gentle and soft. This was freestyle, with no care over what degree is this, what étagè this is usually performed in, the balance of the dance, the sweep of her feet, the flow of her fingers, the angle of her hips… if only she could get up on her toes, that is. Her eyes closed as she started doing an odd dance, waving her hands, on her seat.

_I can't escape myself__  
__So many times I've lied__  
__But there's still rage inside__  
__Somebody get me through this nightmare__  
__I can't control myself…_

"I said, Youichi's shooting us up!"

"What!" Mikan whipped and around, just in time to see an evil grin spreading on Youichi's face, whose hands were all over on the camcorder. "You twat!" She tossed the flats she was holding to her mouth to his direction.

"Not nice!" Youichi jeered, and finally stopped the recording. "What a pair of barmpots. I couldn't work on my Math with you both blasting _Three Days Grace_. And I couldn't resist a good opportunity to make fun of Mikan."

"Oh, get out of here." Mikan rolled her eyes. Youichi complied and Tsubasa crossed her arms, her lips twitching at the sight of her stepbrother.

"Wasn't it fun?"

"For a minute, I suppose."

"See? It's acceptable to not be your self sometimes. You just have to remember who you are in the first place."

"So a brother-sister bonding ends as a life lesson?" Mikan laughed. "You're really something Tsubasa."

"I _am _your brother." He thought about it for a moment. "Well, stepbrother. I don't think I'm ready to be your blood relative."

Mikan thought about it for a moment. Tsubasa sounded honest and true enough. Maybe she should ask him about her worries. And he also wasn't t the type to ask around like Yuka, so she figured he'd be safe. "Have you ever made friends out of your usual circle?"

"Circle? What, like your Wiccan friends?"

She disregarded this joke with a mere roll of her eyes. "No, I mean, your usual mates. The popular rich ones."

"Sure, I do."

"Have you ever made friends with people, well, below the lines?"

"Below the lines?"

"A little on the line of not being rich."

"Why should one's financial status be vital in making friends? That's like saying you'd rather be friends with Veronica Lodge than Betty Cooper."

"Then befriending someone whose financial income isn't on the same line us ours is not considered a rebellious act?"

Tsubasa eyed her curiously for a moment; "I suppose not."

"So I'm free to be friends with whoever?"

"As long as they're not perverts and gang lords, I guess so."

"Good." She breathed, finally releasing what's been stressing her over.

Tsubasa smirked and ruffled her hair. Before he closed her room door, however, he leaned to say, "But, Mikan?"

"Hmm?"

"Make sure you _do _hang out with the right sort. We wouldn't want you to become an animal permanently." And then he imitated once again their earlier faces when they were goofing about, closing the door behind him.

She gulped. Technically, Natsume Hyuuga wasn't the 'right sort' Tsubasa spoke of. Although, theoretically, Tsubasa wasn't the right type of guy either. They both had their vices and her parents aren't troubled with it in Tsubasa's case.

_Maybe because they didn't know_, a sly voice whispered in her head.

_Then what people don't know won't hurt them_, she replied firmly, closing in the voice.

* * *

_**Imai Mansion, Tea Room**_

Hotaru often stayed in the tea room to chat with the family or just have a long sip after a long day. What's troubled her for the most part was her friend's kindling friendship with Hyuuga. She didn't like him one bit. A bad influence he was to her, but for some reason, Mikan couldn't see that.

She decided to clear her mind by reading about the evening news. She didn't like television that much; she liked knowing things bluntly without the drama of sugar-coated words and the competing whatnots and other hooligans.

And then she saw him.

Ruka Nogi.

In a wig.

Actually, it wasn't him, she realized, as she read through the article further, deducing theory number eight of her remarkable Imai conclusions. The person was Rheina Nogi, wife of Matsuyo Nogi, the current holder of N Enterprises. She had just donated a generous amount to an unknown charity. She was known for being an avid devotee and associate of human, women and animal rights movements. It was the kind of information Hotaru scoffed about when it comes to these types of women. But then the bottom of the article confirmed her thoughts; _Mrs. Nogi balances work and family in an upbeat manner. She supports her son, Ruka Nogi, who is currently studying abroad as an exchange student._

Bingo.

"Father," she called for the head of the house's attention. "Do you know anything about Matsuyo and Rheina Nogi?"

Maybe her best friend wasn't completely deluded after all.

* * *

_**Metropolitan Police Service Deparment**_

"You've any witnesses to attest to that?"

Natsume shook his head. "We were inside our house. Unless someone was prying through the windows, no one would've known, and I suppose that's what the Safer Neighbourhood Team was up to."

The police on desk duty pursed her lips. "I see."

"No, you don't," Natsume argued. "Can we just wait for my guardian? Please?"

"Guardian?" The woman asked. "But the man you assaulted was your father."

"Yes, I know that, thank you very much. But I have a legal guardian who's funding school and other needs, but I live with my father."

"Is he not your sister's guardian as well?"

He wasn't in the mood to explain the twisted ways of his life. "Not yet," he fibbed. He'd have to remind the guardian of his of that fact. "Let me call him and he'll settle this down." He added, "Please."

The woman eyed him, probably wondering if this young man is to be trusted or not. After all, he did just punch the lights off his father, and his sister and the kid (she had to work out who the kid was later, it didn't look like the older ones and none of the father) was taken to be talked with. Though the sister attested and confirmed what happened, she was still asleep during the early parts of the fight.

"Alright," she finally conceded. "One phone call. Five minutes."

He nodded, dialed the numbers implanted on his mind, and talked after three rings. "Persona? I'm on the downtown police department. Yes, I'm a little stuck." There was laughter on the other end of the line, and Natsume scowled. "Convicted of 'assaulting' my father. Yes, him. I'm hungry and so is Aoi, and the kid needs milk, so you might want to drop off the store before you go."

In less than a minute, he hung the phone down. The woman scrutinized him, and normally he would've snapped, but he's on dangerous grounds. All he could think was, _What animal have you gone to be, Natsume Hyuuga?_

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_

As you've probably noticed (if you actually bother to read everything before the story), I changed the K+ rating to a T. When I started this, it was a mere wannabe writer's plot. In the last few days of editing and writing, I decided on a vague plotline that, I think, would hold too much for an eleven-year-old. Oh, who am I kidding, that won't stop them. It didn't to me.

Refer to Chapter 07 for the character list of _Vampire Juliet _in case you ever get lost. I know I do!

When I wrote this, it was in 2009. That's why I put in Del Mak, a famous dancer/choreographer who judged the UK National Street Dance 2009. The thing is, I'm a loser and it's 2011, but the good thing is, Del Mak's still judging. So my changing of the timeline _fortunately _doesn't change the story. So, yes, we are now on the 2011 timeline.

I don't own Veronica Lodge and Betty Cooper. They're characters from the _Archie Comics™_. Basically put, Veronica's the daughter of a millionaire and her on-and-off best friend (they fight a lot about Archie Andrews, a guy they both like) is Betty Cooper. Veronica can get a little arrogant because of her status at times, but Betty's the kind-hearted one. They actually make quite a team. If you haven't read about them, well, you should think about it, it's a good past-time.

_Romeo and Juliet and Vampires _is a book written by Claudia Gabel. It's a twist of the original Shakespeare masterpiece. I was book-scouting for a gift for my best friend when I saw this, and I thought, "Oh my god, this is Lacy's script!" And since my friend is more or less a vampire reader since the dawn of time, I bought the book, looked through it, and packed it up. I've never liked Romeo and Juliet's tragedy (I think they cared none for their families, are both impulsive and awfully selfish) so majority of the time, I laughed at the book. Good read, though, and it isn't very thick, I read it for a day, so if you're bored and have nothing to do, you might want to pop a copy open.

_Safer Neighbourhood Team _are in Tower Hamlets, and I quote onetowerhamlets(.)net, they "_spend most of their time out on patrol in your neighbourhood, meeting the community and identifying and dealing with those crimes and issues you have told us cause you most concern. Therefore, your team adjusts its shift pattern to address these priority issues._" Yeah, I was lazy to come up with a definition by myself.

Ace – "brilliant"

Any road – "anyway"

Belt up – "shut up"

Barmpot – "idiot"

Poxy – "crappy" ; "third-rate"

I also disclaim every song and mostly the italicized nouns here (read: Fanfiction, Wattpad, Youtube, The Orphan, The Godfather, Three Days Grace, all the mentioned books, etc.), but I do own Vampire Juliet.

I know. N Enterprises. Pretty smart. Not.


	9. Say All I Need

**Chapter 9: **_**Say All I Need**_

"_There are no words in the kind of love called _true_. When you meet the person, you just know."_

_Do you know what your fate is?_

_And now you're trying to shake it?_

_You're doing your best dance, your best look,_

_y__ou're praying that you'll make it._

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

Mikan frowned at the list. It was a compilation of all her currently scheduled recitals and performances. Given her broken leg, she had six weeks. They were already on the second week of October and her leg was going to be a-okay just in time for the Halloween play. From September to October, she had a total of five performances, and the sixth in the first week of November was going to Luna as well so Mikan wouldn't strain her leg.

She had to be honest. It was great not having to dance. Her feet were in pain with her pointe shoes, having used them non-stop since the year, as preparation for exactly this.

'This', meaning all… _this_.

She had a couple more in November, loads for December until January, then there's the Hearts' Day in February.

Could she do it?

Of course she could.

She sighed and tucked the list somewhere on her copy of the script. Luna and Ruka were doing the balcony scene, and the former didn't look particularly comfortable on the 'balcony'.

After the third practice and Mikan gave them a five-minute break, Luna refused to go down, saying she didn't want to go through the horror all over again.

"Don't be a sissy," Mikan said, "If you're going to throw a missy fit just because you're afraid of going eight feet above the ground—"

"Why don't you do it then, if you're so brave?"

"I would if I didn't have a broken leg."

Luna rolled her eyes though with more amusement. Over the month and a half, she and Luna shared quite a relationship, one that neither knew of until they tried their hand on it, and, of course, left the foul treatment behind them.

Mikan approached Ruka, who was actually intent to memorizing the script on one corner. "Hey, Ruka," she smiled, "All right?"

Ruka blinked at her. He was getting a little tired with the occasional one-day practices Mr. Narumi managed to get approved, but his answer was same and sane as ever; "I'm good."

She nodded. "That means you're not having problems, yes?"

Ruka seemed to have been thinking about her words for a second before he said, "I'm thrilled. I'm— I feel brilliant."

She doubted it, but Ruka didn't seem like the one who wanted comfort, but rather, the one who'd be doing the comforting. "Remember what I told you, though. The offer stands still."

He sighed, not looking at anything or anyone in particular before looking at her straight in the eye. "I won't, Sakura. Thank you."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria**_

Mikan was queuing up with her friends when she noticed that Natsume had just detached himself from the same line. After telling them to get her lunch for her, she walked to his direction, on his way to his friends, no doubt.

"That's all you're having for lunch?" She asked, pointing at the bag of chips on his tray and the two cans of Red Bull. "It's not very healthy, is it?"

He tossed one can to the air and flawlessly caught it before all but shoving it to her face. "It's an energy drink. I can't believe you're missing that."

"I'm letting the drink go, but the chips? You mean you can be a GQ model by eating calories everyday?"

"That's about it."

"Where are you going?" she prodded when she had noticed that his friends seem to be not around and making a ruckus.

He looked at her sardonically from the corner of his eyes. "Seeing as you've put my companions on play duty, I've got no one to eat with to make me look less than the outcast I already am."

"Don't speak like that," she frowned. "That's not what people think."

"They sure fooled me." He spun pass her and the doors, and a little irked that he dismissed him so easily, she hurried after him.

"Hey!" She called after him. Natsume just rounded a corner and she followed. He leaned against a railing, dumped his tray behind him and dug his hands on the bag of chips.

"You're staying here?"

"It's a free world, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but isn't this…" she shrugged, "A little lonely?"

He eyed her then shook his head amusedly. "No doubt. You're a rich brat."

"That's not nice."

He didn't answer; instead, he eyed the bag with sudden fascination. Then he motioned for her to come closer.

"What?" she asked irritably.

He popped open the two cans and made her hold both of it.

"What, I'm a table now?"

"Close your eyes."

_What? _"What?"

Natsume rolled his eyes. "Close your eyes, play dead, die. Just make sure you see nothing."

Mikan sighed loudly and then did as he told her. She thought he'd left until she heard his hand scrambling for chips. "Am I allowed to open them now?"

"No."

She suddenly smelled crisp salty potatoes around her, so she scrunched up her nose and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Open your mouth."

"I am not opening my mouth."

"Just open your mouth, you big baby."

She relented.

She munched.

She swallowed.

"Good?"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Can I have some more?"

Natsume smirked, as if expecting so, and offered his bag. "Knock yourself out." He reached for one of the Red Bulls and drowned half of it in one gulp.

"You're quite a drinker, aren't you?"

"You're quite an eater, aren't you?"

She drew out a tongue and lightly kissed her now-salty fingers. "I can't remember the last time I had one of those."

He didn't reply and kept eating.

"And you're not very talkative, are you?"

"I thought we settled this?"

"I know, and I hoped it changed your being awfully unsociable twenty-four-seven. Apparently not."

"Mikan."

Though it was from this boy that she would like to hear her name come from, it was not. Hotaru stood not too far behind, her arms crossed and her lips quirked in a way that demanded explanation, at the same time saying she'd rather not hear it.

"I was just—"

"We only have a fifteen-minute break, remember? Or would you like to succumb to the consequences of your own rules?"

Mikan's shoulders slouched tiredly. Indeed, it was her who said that anyone who's had beyond of their fifteen-minute lunch break had to work with the casts for extended hours. Apparently, the list was starting to get longer and sooner or later everyone will be occupying the theater until five, six, seven in the evening.

She sighed. "I'm going." Giving Natsume a fleeting glance, who merely nodded at her, she followed Hotaru back inside the cafeteria.

However, Hotaru subtly pushed her towards the table. "I'll be around in a while."

Mikan turned around but when she did, she couldn't see Hotaru anymore; she had vanished when a crowd of costumed interpretative dancers passed with unbelievably humongous headdresses.

These were one of the times she absolutely hated being in an arts school.

* * *

"Hyuuga." someone said tersely.

Natsume was on his way back to rehearse with Reo when she oddly heard his surname. He turned around but only saw Sakura's friend. He turned back and continued on his way.

"Hyuuga," it went again.

He turned around but still, just saw the creepy friend.

"_Hyuuga_," the voice sounded annoyed.

"Who the hell?" He asked, turning around, irked all the same.

"It's _me_," the friend snapped. "Honestly, you're such an oddball."

"What do you want?"

"_And _discourteous to women," she noted. "I'm going to say this just once, Hyuuga, so you'd better listen carefully. I already told my friend she's better off without you but she's blind as Andrea Bocelli. I don't want you hanging around her."

"I'm not," he said through gritted teeth. How can this crazy ballerina suddenly walk up to him and accuse him? Snobs. "Your friend's the one who walks up after me."

"I can see you're not pushing her away."

He was admittedly taken aback by this bit. Indeed, he didn't push the aforementioned girl away. Perhaps because very rare do people approach him at all, and a distant part of himself liked talking to someone new for a change. "Then tell her off. If you don't want her hanging around me so much, go run and give her a good scolding."

"I already did," she gritted her teeth. "But she's a stubborn mule. Now, I don't know what you want with my best friend and I don't want to know what you did to make her like you, but this has to stop, Hyuuga. Get away from her if you know what's good for you."

"I think she has the liberty to stick with people she likes being around with." Natsume said, irritated. If there was someone he didn't like, it was someone who told him what to do with his life. He's had enough of it. "Judging the kind of person you are, I can understand her sudden decision of switching to another crowd."

Hotaru Imai, however, is obviously not a person who blushes in embarassment. Her eyes took in an even more intense feeling— rage. "You've no right to judge me, Hyuuga."

"Why?" He bit back the cuss. She probably wasn't used to it. "Would judging you make a difference if I had a hundred pounds to slap on the table?"

The sentiment made her pause; she thought of her words. Finally, she apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Nevertheless, I still ask for… _space…_ between you and my friend." With just but a nod, she turned on her heels and retraced her steps.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

You could obviously tell that Mikan was preoccupied. Once, she had called for the characters of scene twelve, and reprimanded them for not being literally on the same page. She was told, snappishly, she may add, by Hotaru that she was looking at page twenty-one, and she was not paying attention at all.

No doubt she flushed at that.

She had also barked at Koko when his cap fell while dancing, saying such things shouldn't happen. Christopher, the best gay friend she knew, was also cracked at when Mikan told him to stop flirting with Ruka when all he talking to him with was their fence fight in the play.

"What did you do to Mikan?" Chris asked Hotaru as Mikan ratted on the painting crew for not choosing the proper color of brown for the trees.

"I didn't do anything to her," Hotaru said, her voice flawless.

He raised a finger at her. "Don't tell me that. Before she left for lunch, we were talking about the Teletubbies. You know what she looks like right now? The Halloween version of Dipsy, and the neon green one's the oddest, if you must know."

Hotaru's eyebrows rose in an arrogant fashion.

"I'm watching you, Hotaru Imai," his eyes squinted. "My sexy orbs will not fail."

"Stop talking," she said, because Hotaru never says 'belt up' in a conversation where she is the one playing innocent.

"Don't snap at me, woman," Chris said hotly and twirled in a rather intense dance that triggered not even a muscle from Hotaru. "I happen to be—"

"God save the Queen, Christopher Marcus, because just what on _earth _are you doing?" Mikan had sauntered to their direction with heated eyes. "I told you to start scraping through the script with Luna and here you are without— where's Luna? Luna? Oh, please no, don't tell me she's gone snogging Wyatt again, he's the freaking friar!"

"What's got your knickers on a twist, Sakura?" Luna called down from the makeshift balcony. "I'm up here, for the Queen's sake!"

"What are you doing there?" Mikan squealed. "I told you to go through your lines with Chris, and he's over here trying to man up, drastically, I may add!"

Luna rolled her eyes and ignored Chris' playfully angry 'Excuse me?' "We've been through it three times. I'm giving Ruka something to do. Honestly, who peed on your bed?"

"Don't. Push. It." Mikan muttered, and turned to verbally terrorize another.

Luna turned to Hotaru. "Hey, Imai, what did you do to her?"

"Why do you all assume I'm the one at fault?" Hotaru said impeccably.

"Because before she went out for lunch she was saying something about a Winky and a Tipsy."

"It's Tinky Winky and Dipsy, you moron," Christopher rolled his eyes.

"Like I'd want to know, you poof."

"I love you, honey!"

"I love you more, popkin!"

Hotaru sighed and shook her head with her eyes closed. "I am surrounded by idiots."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio**_

There was something about dancing that made his heart pump faster than a bunch of race cars on track. It wasn't tiring; in fact, dancing is all close to exercise. Endorphins are sent all-throughout his body, and there was just this unexplainable bliss where he would forget everything, absolutely everything, something he thought only a fistful of ecstasy can do. When he wasn't loaded and dry, he borrows a player from Ruka (who would've been more than glad to get Natsume his own through his mother's money support, but Natsume didn't want him spending his money on him and when Ruka seemed to remain unconvinced, he said his drunkard of a father would throw it on Aoi) and pumps everything out of his system. Once the music is turned on, his body sorts of moved on its own accord. His fingers would crack and his hands would clench in preparation. And then his torso would wave, followed by his arms as if they have no bones, and then his feet would move. Then, just like that, that was all there is in the world: Natsume and the music. Natsume, dancing, and the music, booming. It would only last for four or five minutes, and then he'd look for another song, and it was literally like sniffing those overpriced weed from one of the Tower Hamlet lads, and it didn't cost anything at all.

Natsume glided across the floor in his sneakers, sweat trickling down his face despite of the almost breezy mid-October weather. The windows were pulled open, no doubt by the insufferable man judging his every move.

Reo's eyes swiftly followed his just-as-swift movements as he twisted and turned. B.O.B.'s voice sang in the room, and the students long stopped with their activities to watch him dance. He was rather amused at most of the reactions, he wanted to amuse the Hyuuga kid by obviously slapping the jaws close. But although they've only known each other for not too long, he knew the boy would be nothing but amused; if he could help it, he wouldn't like such an audience while dancing, but Reo told him that if he was planning to set foot on the Harrow Leisure Center with 1800 viewers, give or take a few, he had to man up and stop his being a horrible sissy and dance when it was called for.

After all, he would be the, say, _main attraction _of the performance.

The song ended and he panted, not sitting down. He waited for Reo's verdict. The teacher didn't say anything for a while before telling Nick, a senior; "Take over for a moment, will you? Hyuuga, come with me."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Building 2, Ground Floor, Janitor's Closet**_

"No, I promise, please. Just one year."

"_No son of mine is going to prance around in tights!"_

"No, father, I won't be dancing in tights, I assure you that." Ruka said firmly. "I'm wearing trousers. I've got the lead role, father, I beat down the whole Academy!" He couldn't resist not putting it down. Matsuyo Nogi needed cajoling, and pushing it was all he could do.

"_To dance and make a fool of yourself!"_

"I'm not just going to dance, father, I'm also going to act. I'm going to be an artist."

"_Then put your art into good use and work with me. I'm not getting any older by the moment and I need to make sure that N Enterprises stays independent with its original name. I can't have my only son slacking off during his senior year when you should be studying with your private tutors for Yale."_

"Just this, father. I ask you this. Everyone's counting on me." He went on a different approach. "If I lend a hand in the failing of the play, people would know my name, and they'd recognize Nogi. Please, I don't want to embarrass our name, father."

"_You already did, by deciding to run off with your deluded fantasies that you can live to that kind of spiteful art!"_

"The play, then, father, will be my deadline! If things turn bad, if just one foot slips, you can take me. If you just wait and decide until then. If you don't like what I did, I'll let you drag me off to Yale. I'll study and make you proud without complaining or running away. I promise."

"_Until then. A Nogi always keeps his word."_

_Click._

Ruka sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't the first time they talked that day. It was getting tiring, always being interrupted in the middle of his classes by his father. He had to do well on the play and even better on academics.

He had to. He's said all he needed to. All he was waiting for now was the act.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Ballet Theatre**_

It wasn't everyday you'd see Madame Adrienne and Rei Mouri in the same room, or even more, sharing the same three-block space.

Though both were in their late early 30s, neither could resist not wringing on each other's necks. They were always on par like cats and dogs when together. She always said he didn't know what music really means unless Chopin hits him on the head with his music notes, and he always replied that she couldn't get laid even if she did a 90° leg rise on a drunk pervert. And then she'd say something in French, and he'd have by then learned and memorized what it meant, so he'd say that at least he wasn't stuck in the black and white era. It was always amusing to hear them argue, but it was always rated to a T so all the young ones had to wait until they were in tenth grade onwards to be allowed within actual hearing distance. The headmaster, however, was never amused, and if only they weren't one of the best teachers who had led students to countless victory (and if not for most students' parents' threats to remove their children from the Academy, although the students mostly twisted the reasons or else the parents wouldn't side with them at all) they would have been fired before they could even say Tchaikovsky.

That was why everyone was wondering why they weren't ratting it off yet, and Sumire was already recording the scene with her iPhone just in case, while doing figure five.

Mikan and her ballerina classmates had to leave rehearsals for ballet practice, and while everyone else did a number after warm-up, Mikan managed to let Madame Adrianne allow her to do script reviewing, with the reasoning that, "If the play doesn't go well, everyone will know I'm a horrible C-Major specializing in ballet under your care!" She was completely away from the world as she read off the lines off _Vampire Juliet_.

**…**

**Juliet**:

I'm sick and tired of my parents telling me what to do!

I am not some prized trophy even the Count can just loll to his bed.

What am I, a lamp shade he can so easily purchase by a snap of his finger?

**Nurse**:

Be nice, Your Royal Highness.

The King and Queen are concerned for your well-being;

Just so they're assured someone can give you your daily intake

even when they've gone to sleep.

**Juliet**:

Nurse, please, we're in the twentieth century!

There are blood donors, and this is England.

I'm Her Royal Highness.

If I tell a human doctor I want a week's worth of blood type AB,

he'd give it to me,

because I'm the Princess.

**Nurse**:

Yes, I understand that.

**Juliet**:

Then why do you keep insisting I do what they say?

They may be King and Queen of England but we're still in the century

where arranged marriages are only heard of in books.

**…**

Mikan thought Juliet as someone horridly pathetic. If she was Her Royal Highness the Princess of England, she'd grab the opportunity to marry rich, dashing Count Paris. He was also assured to give her a good life! Why did she have to choose measly human commoner Romeo who all but leads her to trouble and death in the end?

She flipped to another page. She didn't want to deal with Juliet's petty whines.

**…**

**Tybalt**:

Why does it have to be Montague?

Just look at him!

He doesn't even seem like he can go up to a doctor

and say the Princess needs blood for her what-not-excuses!

**Juliet**:

Because Romeo is different.

**Tybalt**:

Oh, yes, I can see that.

He's got absolutely nothing to offer you.

Yes, very different indeed.

**Juliet**:

He has all he can give me, Tybalt, so why don't you cut it and stay out?

**Tybalt**:

Listen to me, Princess.

Romeo Montague is bad news.

One, he's human.

Two, he's a Montague and in your family and the rest of the world,

that's the apt definition of a murderer.

It'd do you both good if you stay away from him.

**…**

Oddly, though, Mikan can suddenly relate to Juliet during the particular scene. That moment when everyone thinks someone's not good enough for you. When all you want is be, and just be, with someone despite of what they are because you're more eager to know who they are.

For years, she wondered if Juliet ever really loved Romeo, For one, they were roughly in the ages of fourteen, but probably during those times people die when they reach the age of thirty, but that wasn't the case. They stare at each other's eyes and suddenly, Kylie Minogue's singing Two Hearts forward to 2009.

Now, the mere thought of someone falling in love and claiming to have found their match at the age of eleven, twelve or thirteen is so deplorable, she'd probably laugh at it in frivolity. What do they know about love anyway? And then those kids would rant on about how they love their claimed other half because of their voice, and their hair, and their _abs_… that wasn't love, she reasoned to herself. Love is when you're with someone, and for some reason you can't fathom, you're happy just being so. You don't know why and you don't bother to find out, because love needed no reasons. You can't love someone by what they are. You have to love them by who they are. There are no words in the kind of love called _true_. When you meet the person, you just know.

Love sick twelve-year-olds these days are the laughing stock on earth. They haven't even reached puberty yet! 'Hey, everyone! I'm twelve and I have a boyfriend who can give Justin Timberlake a run for his cash! Ooh, let's all ogle at his amazing body and you'll all tell me how insanely jealous you are because I have a super hot boyfriend who's using drugs and who I'm getting drunk with to Jade's party tonight!'

Define _irksome_.

_When I was twelve_, Mikan argued with herself when a part of her yelled for being a hypocrite, _the parties I knew about were slumber parties with my friends and my parents' dinner parties._

_You're bitter_, the same voice cackled.

_I am not, _she snapped, _Just because I'm a total nun doesn't mean I'm releasing my anger all over the twelve-year-olds in the world!_

She shoved off her thoughts of arguing with herself and was going to point the piece about young love out and reason with Sumire, always the one who showers hearts all over the place, but when she looked up, she noticed Natsume Hyuuga staring down at her from not far away.

Natsume Hyuuga.

In ballet class.

With neither his shoes or socks.

_Now _this_ is something you don't see everyday_, she thought.

She was about to stand up when Hotaru walked to her and stopped her with a glare.

Madame Adrienne broke off her conversation with Mr. Mouri and had scanned the class before calling for a student. "Luna, dear, will you please come over here for a second?"

Mikan noticed that Hotaru wasn't paying attention to her anymore but instead watching Luna's toes lightly walk towards Madame Adrienne. She leaned a little to the right and raised a questioning brow towards Natsume, asking for the reason.

Just as he subtly shrugged in reply, Hotaru had stepped to her right to block their eye contact. Mikan scowled at her so-called best friend, who simply looked at her as if to signify who's queen at the moment.

"Class, clear the floors!" Madam Adrienne said, gesturing for both Luna and Natsume in the middle where the ballerinas formerly stood. "Mikan, sit here with me, please."

Throwing a smug smile at her best friend and playfully drawing her tongue out, Mikan was all smiles when she grabbed the script and her mechanical pencil and went to sit with Madame Adrienne on the only side benches. Her smile, however, went upside down to a frown when Madame Adrienne said, "Oh, and Hotaru as well, please."

Sometimes, Mikan thought, regardless of everything, Madame Adrienne despised her.

She had a frown with her legs crossed as Hotaru approached her. However, her friend didn't sit and chose to stand directly behind her.

Not a good sign.

Mr. Reo was plugging his player and popped his CD before explaining to everyone and no one at the same time, "I want to see something new. I don't want this to be an interpretative dance. Koizumi, you have to dance a little faster than the usual. Hyuuga, slower. No plans. Think of it as joint freestyle. Let your bodies move and find each other to stir in sync."

The intro was starting.

"And please, no fingers playing with what's not supposed to be tinkered."

_Do you know where your heart is?_

_Do you think you can find it?_

_Or did you trade it for something, somewhere, better just to have it?_

Natsume's movements were slower indeed, and Luna's were more defined, but there was something about the dance they were performing. They swept pass each other yet not parting too much, keeping the distance. Not once did they trip over their actions; as if they had the same mind: the minds of true artists.

_Do you know where your love is?_

_Do you think that you lost it?_

_You felt it so strong but nothing's turned out how you want it_

If you were not an appreciator, you would say that Luna and Natsume were doing their weird version of a mating dance. Luna's fingers grazed across his skin, their breathings shallow and deep. Natsume was eyeing her not creepily as if she was a Science project but almost with an intense blazing look.

_Well bless my soul, y__ou're a lonely soul._

_'Cause you won't let go of anything you hold._

_"Well, all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head."_

But no, it wasn't a mating dance. There was chemistry in what they were doing; almost like actors. Light touches led to another dynamic yet soft move. Some strands of her hair that fell from her just-tied bun was starting to disentangle themselves from the lace ribbon with all the moving; Natsume's simply danced with him. She's worn the usual leotards but his shirt and jeans added a different flavor to the dance, like they were forming a story.

_Do you know what your fate is?_

_And now you're trying to shake it?_

_You're doing your best dance, your best look, _

_y__ou're praying that you'll make it._

The story wherein the reckless boy who's got a heart set for no one meets the soft girl with the gentle movements and a slow-paced life.

And if you didn't appreciate dance, you wouldn't understand.

_Well bless my soul, y__ou're a lonely soul._

_'Cause you won't let go, of anything you hold._

She started spinning around as if her character was in a daze, and he was reaching out for her. The lace ribbon finally fell from her hair and the blonde locks lightly whipped him. She smelt of vanilla, the Victoria Secret kind that Aoi have always wanted but couldn't have. Again, he was reminded bitterly of the situation he was in. He remembered why he was doing it, why he agreed on being Persona's little pet.

_"Well, all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head"_

_Say, "All I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head"_

Sometimes, all he wanted to do was lie somewhere and just lay there for the longest of times without another worry etching across his face, without any problem stalling his dreams, without nightmares kicking him off the sheets. All he wanted was, ironically, just as the song said, a place to rest his head on.

_Do you think I can find it?_

_Do you think you can find it?_

_Do you think you can find it, better than you had it?_

It was a dance, she knew it just as well as anyone else. That was why Mikan didn't know why she had that nasty feeling in her stomach and she suddenly wanted to have Luna's head served before her bloody and on a silver platter.

_Do you know where the end is?_

_Do you think you can see it?_

_Well, until you get there, go on, go ahead and scream it_

_Just say..._

The music faded and the audience clapped. Luna felt elated; it was something new, whatever she's done. It was something she couldn't explain, but she knew she wanted to do it again. The one beside her wasn't saying anything, and neither were the two teachers who just applauded with the class. Hotaru had a wry smile on her lips Luna couldn't understand, and finally noticed that though Mikan was clapping with everyone else, she was avoiding eye contact with everybody by the way her eyes danced around and her cheeks reddened and her lower lip bitten.

She looked up to the young man beside her, but only saw him eyeing the one with the dancing eyes, reddening cheeks and bitten lip.

_Now _this, she thought, This _is something you don't see everyday._

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Hallway**_

"Hyuuga's something, isn't he?" Luna said aloud just as a bunch of students bounded out the double H classrooms.

Mikan strode next to her. "Do you like him?"

"Please," Luna rolled her eyes. "Hot he may be but I'm totally into Christopher. Honestly, why is the guy gay?"

"Oh..." Mikan's voice trailed off.

Remembering the earlier encounter she saw that exchanged between the one beside her earlier to the one currently beside her, she asked just as bluntly, "Why? Do you like him?"

"What? Oh. I don't know." She said in a daze and rather distractedly. "I mean, look, there's Chris. Chrissy!"

"Chrissy?" Christopher raised his eyebrow, feeling a little wary. "Didn't you just bite my arse before you went doing penchees?"

"Come on, I'm a girl." Mikan drew out a pout. "You understand, don't you?"

"My Queens, if I didn't love you!"

Hearing this, Luna flipped her hair. "Chris! I thought you loved me!"

"What, I can't love the both of you?"

And though a conversation went on after that, Luna couldn't help but wonder why Mikan was so interested with a guy spelling trouble like Natsume Hyuuga.

* * *

**A/N**

Poof – "homosexual"

May Madness 2011 goes on! (Basically you just write madly for the GAFFN because you love it and we're the crazy writers around FFN…usually. That's just me talking, I'm not a crazy writer, I'm this escapee from the mental hospital right across the country and who might be lurking outside your window right now.)

Harrow Leisure Center is in North London, therefore not mine. So is the UK National Street Dance. Let's just say that anything connected, directly or indirectly, to the 2011 UK National Street Dance, is not under my ownership. This is a fan-made story trying to fit in with real life in a 2011 timeline.

Andrea Bocelli had a sense impairment, and since Hotaru's smart, hence the comparison.

The use of the word 'ecstasy' is indeed pertaining to the drug.

Suddenly, I'm more comfortable with making Luna Koizumi a friend rather than an enemy. For my Loved by Law readers, she's going to turn up in the upcoming twelfth chapter! :

#Confession: There is never a time, while writing SB, that I did not read bits of my work out loud in a British accent.

I know, I'm mahvelous.

Ah, yes. I did just put a Natsume-Mikan moment that no doubt made you all start hunting for your mothers' best frying pan because it's so pathetic. I completely forgot how to stumble head over heels for a guy. Any road, about those pans… I've got my gears ready so I think I'm good to go.

Charge!

**PS **That bit about twelve-year-olds is something I got from someone I know via the internet. She was anonymously asked by a twelve-year-old who was going to have her first party on how many drinks she should get and if she should have hot sex with her new boyfriend. Seriously, no joke. Please don't be offended if you are twelve or any of the aforementioned ages Mikan (in that case, I) trashed. I mean no harm or fault to you. I'm not one to talk given as my first relationship was when I was thirteen and he was twelve. And nothing in that particular relationship happened beyond the gaze-holding phase because both of us were sissies.

**PPS **If you do have time, would you mind checking out my other GA story, _Who's That Girl_? Thanks. :-)


	10. Uprising

**Dedication: **Last June 25, the Marriage Equality Bill was approved in New York and the Empire State Building lit up in a rainbow of colors. So for this chapter, _I'm dedicating it to all the closeted sex-confused. _Lifeis all about being yourself and finding out who are the people who will stick with you despite it. Who's stopping you but yourself? Don't let other people's chains hold you back from being all-out. Make the world a happier place. Teach people how to love. Let them learn the values of life because frankly, I think the kind of people who could truly understand what living your life means are the LGBTs.

* * *

**Chapter 10:**_**Uprising**_

"_You can only stand on your own two feet when you can make decisions for yourself."_

_They will not force us,__  
__And they will stop degrading us,__  
__And they will not control us,__  
__We will be victorious, so come on…_

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Integrated Calculus Class**_

She was failing. _Horribly_. How could anyone suck at Math this much? She had no freaking idea.

"Ms. Sakura," Mr. Jinno sighed heavily. He took his time with polishing his glasses clean before sliding them back on his face. "If you don't pass the upcoming quiz, I'm afraid it's going to affect your theatre and ballet."

Mikan bit her lip. She was beyond embarrassed. She was also late for rehearsals, but her grades were at stake here.

"I don't approve of assigning tutors for my students, so I trust that you will find a way to pass with flying colors in your own way." He pushed his glasses further to his nose. "Ms. Imai is a likely candidate."

"She's a little busy…" She muttered. "With the play and her applications for universities."

"And if you don't work on your Math soon, you'll be having problems with _your _career. I suggest you start looking for a way now. You're excused."

Just as she rounded the corner, Mikan muttered, "I hate Math."

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theatre**_

Luna spun around Mikan with Christopher and asked, "So who spit on your hair?"

Unconsciously, she reached for her messy locks. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, why do you look like you're going to kill someone?"

Mikan sighed deeply. "Mr. Jinno says I'm failing. No, actually, he didn't say that. He told me I suck, only in much more acceptable words."

Luna and Chris both stared at each other for a quick moment before looking away. "You're on your own."

"Gee," she rolled her eyes, "Thanks for the support, you guys are amazing."

"You better get a tutor soon," Chris pointed out. "Not many seniors are willing to sacrifice their time to teach a stupid— _ow_! I'm kidding, alright? God, can't take a joke, can we?"

"It's not funny." Mikan crossed her arms. "I'm not stupid. I like Math but we're not the best of friends."

"I would say I'd help but I can't risk flunking the both of us," Luna shrugged. "What about Hotaru?"

Why was it always towards her best friend? She and Mikan haven't been sleeping much for the last few days, after the performance between Luna and Natsume. It just felt awkward, for some reason, and really odd.

Hotaru hated Natsume, that was a given, and the feelings were mutual. They'd probably curse each other with their utmost. It was just so stupid to Mikan. She wasn't thinking about marriage or something absurd like that! All she wanted was to be friends with Natsume. What was so wrong with that? Why do they keep referring about how "it's not right" or "he's not like you" and even "you're from two different worlds"? What was this, a soap opera? They weren't in some damned story where society separated them with an indestructible brick wall. That was pure utter trash. In the real world, no one would not make friends with you just because you've got no money— sure, if you're an arrogant uneducated prick who thinks inserting a curse word in every other sentence is proper, people would doubt about having to be that close with you, but what was this with Natsume? It wasn't like he was going to bite.

"What about Nonoko?" Chris offered when Mikan didn't say anything.

Mikan shrugged. "Look, I'll just find a way somehow. Right now, we have to focus on rehearsals. We've got a week and a half left until Halloween and you— yes, Chrissy, you— need to stop looking at the male lead like he's lunch."

Ruka, who was sitting nearby, obviously shuddered.

"See?" Mikan pointed this out. "He's forever scarred."

Chris sighed overdramatically. "Can't I look at a guy and call him hot these days? What is wrong with the world?"

_Indeed, what is, _Mikan thought to herself. "Alright, places every one. Act VIII, scene IV."

* * *

_**St. James Park, Westminster**_

The late afternoon sun hid behind the clouds while Mikan tried to hide her frustration behind her thick Calculus textbook. It was to no avail, because an aggravated scream echoed from her lips. Two tween lovers passed by and snickered at her expense.

"Yeah, go ahead, just laugh!" She hissed at them.

They bounded on the other way after sending a scowl on her direction. Mikan couldn't care less. She already look like she's been to hell and back, and then hell and back again. Her hair was messily (and not the type that would look good while all messed up— she had to face it, only Blake Lively can look like a total doll with bed hair) tied into what used to be a bun, because the strands kept falling so she kept sticking them in with bobby pins on the coin purse of her wallet. Not for the first time, she tucked her feet under her and shifted herself, desperately wishing that the gods would answer her prayers and the answers to the exercise would turn up.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, come on!" She growled under her breath. "This is ridiculous! Why am I studying Calculus? No, why did I take Calculus in the first place?" Too irritated with herself failing to grasp the concept than the book's inability to explain the lesson, Mikan stood and grabbed her purse. She needed something… cold.

The ice cream bell rang.

Who gives a flying tuck about the diet?

Eight minutes later, licking her second peanut butter and chocolate ice cream, Mikan headed back to her bench in front of the lake. St. James Park was no doubt one of the best places in London. Perhaps it is often forgotten, being besmirched, but the nature has always been something she's been greatly fascinated with. Growing in the city and going only to places where the big famous people are, sometimes, a little tiring. She found herself asking, _This is it?_

She only realized way too late that her ice cream was dripping down her hands and her jumper's sleeves as she stared at Natsume obviously trying not to look _that _amused with her attempts of answers to the second exercise.

He noticed her and with one arch of his brow, his expression completely changed; he wasn't hiding anymore. He was full-out smirking. "What the _hell _is this?"

Blushing, she quickly reached for her book, accidentally leaving ice cream marks on the page. "Oh, great, look what you made me do!"

"I didn't make you do anything," he rolled his eyes. "Not yet, anyway. It's obvious you need help in this department, I know."

"You and the rest of the world," she muttered. She had lost her appetite and so she tossed her dripping ice cream on the bin. "Right. Would you mind scooting over?"

Natsume lazily leaned against the bench with his eyes closed and his arms crossed on one side of the bench. Mikan took a seat on the vacant space. They stayed so for about twenty seconds, until Natsume couldn't take her agitated mumbling and finally offered; "Need help?"

She eyed him suspiciously before finally saying, "No, thank you."

"I'm not going to make you fail. Not yet, anyway."

"Are you aiming for making that your catchphrase?"

As if only to mock her, he said, "Not yet, anyway."

"Ooookay." She settled back and murderously glared at the textbook, gripping hard on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh." Mikan waved him off. "I'm trying to set this on fire."

Natsume made an audible sigh. "I'm good in Math. Honest."

"You also have a good French accent."

"That, too."

It wasn't fair that Nasume could say all of these without expressing any expression further than those that accompanied a smirk.

Mikan rubbed her eyes and stared into the waters. The sun was swiftly beginning to change colors for the setting sun. "It's so pretty," she commented. She added quietly a little later on, "I've been staying here every once in a while. Since you showed me, I mean."

"You weren't by any chance looking for me, were you?"

Blunt, huh?

She tried to cool down her reddening cheeks. "Of course not!" She completely denied. "You live at Tower Hamlets."

There was a pause.

"How did you know that?"

_Crap_.

"I… uh… internet?"

_Double crap_.

"Nice try."

He wore his smirk again, before it finally slipped and settled into a yielding look. It wasn't exactly relaxed, but softer.

Mikan cleared her throat. "Want to help me?"

* * *

_**Sakura Residence**_

"Hotaru!" Tsubasa purred over the phone. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

"_Spit it, Tsubasa_," Hotaru growled. "_I'm busy."_

"Can't I call you every now and then to profess my undying love?"

Only Tsubasa could keep a joke from Hotaru Imai's childhood all these years. During their nursery years, he had to stop a fist fight between Hotaru and this kid who kept admitting his love to Cool Blue Sky. Needless to say, it was Hotaru who sent her fist on the poor little guy's left eye.

"_I'm giving you thirty seconds."_

"But my love can't be described in thirty seconds, Hotaru!"

"_Twenty-five seconds."_

"Well, first you have your eyes, and your equally dark hair which matches perfectly against the terribly horrifying aura you emit—"

"_Eighteen."_

"Is Mikan there?"

"_Why are you asking if Mikan's here?"_

"Because, my sweet pumpkin, she's obviously not here."

"_She's not here either."_

Tsubasa assessed this piece of information for a while. "Is she over Sumire's?"

"_I don't think Mikan's anywhere near the people you've met before."  
_

He immediately caught on with the meaning of her words. "Are you implying that she's with a boy?"

"_Not just any boy. She's with Natsume Hyuuga."_

Left and right he looked before pushing himself inside a broom closet. He whispered on the receiver, "Go on."

* * *

_**Downing Street, Westminster, London**_

"It's not fair."

"Nothing is."

Mikan frowned. "You're supposed to ask, '_What is_?' and I'm supposed to answer you." When he didn't make a move to reply to that, she said anyway; "Why are boys more logical than girls? Both my brothers are amazing in anything related to numbers, it's like they were born with calculators installed in their minds. My dad's a monster, too. I don't know about my mom but seeing as she's part of the PTA, I'm guessing she got there by herself."

"I don't think they give out exams for the PTA officers."

She lightly slapped him on the arm. "That's not what I meant." She turned to him quite admiringly. "You're pretty good, Natsume. Why are you dancing?" He didn't reply, and she didn't push him. Thinking it was a sensitive subject, she shifted it back to her. "I have a secret."

"U-huh."

"I'm clumsy."

Natsume snorted.

"No, I swear!" Her eyes widened.

"You honestly think I believe that?"

"Well, you should," Mikan said seriously. "I promise. At home, I practice doing the complicated routines and turns so whenever I do it in front of an audience, I won't fumble."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever floats your boat, Sakura."

"So, yeah, I once asked my mum to have one of the guest rooms, my grandparents', to make into a dance studio, so I won't need to clean my room to practice, you know?" Natsume actually did _not _know, but he didn't tell her that. He wasn't that tactless. "But of course, I couldn't tell my mum that her little ballerina's a klutz or else she'll probably send me to some institution to fix it. I mean, that's my mum, she's buffed about my dancing, thinks it's the best thing about me after my first steps." Mikan snorted and sent her hands flying everywhere with each statement. "I practically learned how to walk because of dancing, can you believe that? It was originally just some surgery analysis or something, I can't really remember, I mean, how could I? I was three! I don't ask mum anymore because she goes on to this lengthy history from my first twirl to my first figure to my first blahs and blahs, it's absolutely crazy!"

He merely nodded. "Sounds like you."

"Oh my gods, you're not the first person who said that!" Mikan exhaled supremely.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he muttered, "I wonder why?"

They both stopped in front of Mikan's gates. She stared at him, not really wanting to go yet.

And then he looked at her straight in the eyes: "It's all I can afford."

"What can you afford?" She asked, puzzled.

He averted her eyes. "Dancing."

She grinned at him. "That sounds a little sissy."

"Then you're Princess Sissy."

She pursed her lips. "I take it you're the Prince, then?"

Natsume shrugged, turned and waved goodbye. "See you."

* * *

_**Sakura Residence, Mikan's Room**_

Mikan couldn't wipe the smile from her face. Today was pretty uneventful, but for some reason, it was one of her best days in a while.

She hadn't met someone like him. He was a man and a boy in so many ways while she was a little girl twirling in her pink tutu. He was just there and she was all over the place. How could someone be so steady? How long has she known him, anyway? Almost two months. What did those two months mean to her? Mikan couldn't answer the question. Sure, she didn't like him at first. There were just some people you think you hate at first, everyone gets through that. But as time grew, Mikan realized how very unlike he was in reality. Natsume was not trouble, he was troubled. Contrary to what other people believed in, he wasn't "that bloke" who was trying to fit in a world he didn't grow up in. He was doing it for a reason.

But for what reason? Mikan wanted to know. She wasn't after the gossip. She was interested. What did Alice Academy had that he so needed? And like she told him, he was just far too great to be dancing. Of course Mikan wasn't belittling her work and passion, but for Natsume, being able to 'afford' dancing was still too vague an answer. Heck, everything about him was vague, not to mention that friend of his, Ruka.

Mikan couldn't figure out what she was thinking of in the first place. When she was thinking of Natsume, everything just seemed to drift off. She closed her eyes, heaved a sigh, and dreamed on.

* * *

_**Alice Academy of the Arts, Integrated Calculus Class**_

"I'm impressed," Mr. Jinno said the next day, handing Mikan back her book. She had sat on the nearest chair with her fingers crossed.

"Really?" Her face lit up. "I mean, honestly? I thought I was really bad!"

"You still are," he said mercilessly, "I graded it a C, but it's better than your F."

"I'll take anything but an F!" She let herself went crazy, but then catching Mr. Jinno's stern look, she scrambled back to her seat.

"It's a start," he finally said. He reached under an odd frog paperweight and handed her three sheets of problems. "For merit. I want this on my desk tomorrow morning."

After thanking him, Mikan rushed out of the room; it was lunch and she knew exactly where to find a particular pseudo-tutor.

"Natsume!" She greeted him in bated breath.

Natsume looked up uninterestedly and threw her a bag of chips. "You're too loud."

She eagerly dug her hands inside the bag, "I got a C!"

"Good for you," His voice was monotonous, but Mikan was used to it. If anything, it sounded as if the statement was even sarcastic.

She reached behind him and grabbed the second can of cola. "So, Mr. Jinno gave me this activity sheet, for credit, and I was thinking if you could help me again? Please? Come on, Natsume, you can't say no to this face!"

He sent her a dry look.

"Okay, so maybe you can, but come on, please!" She drank, scrunched up her face, and then went for another gulp. "That was nice. But please, Natsume, mum's going to be so happy!"

"I highly doubt it's because of me."

"Alright, fine, if you don't want to go back to the lake, we can study over at mine. I promise I won't serve you tomato juice or carrot cake."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"…No?"

"_No_."

* * *

_**Sakura Residence**_

"Where've you been?"

Tsubasa's voice made her jump; she didn't realize that he would be leaning against one of the foyer pillars, half-obscured by the shadows!

Mikan cleared her throat. "Same place where I've been yesterday."

"With Hotaru? I never took her as the nature-loving kind. Or maybe Sumire? Nah, she only goes out because of shopping. Maybe with Anna? Doesn't she have an early curfew, though? And I heard Nonoko's gone to take a screening over some university, so it couldn't have been her either."

Her face was getting paler and paler by the second; finally, she asked, in a trembling voice, "What are you trying to say, Tsubasa? Couldn't I be out with my other friends?"

"Other friends?" He repeated. "Probably friends that your _other _friends don't approve of?"

She laughed nervously. "You know Hotaru, she generally hates people, and Sumire scoffs at everyone. Anna's too shy and Nonoko's, well, she's too smart to…" She trailed off when she saw her brother's expression.

"Stop lying," he said.

"I'm not lying," she completely denied.

He looked around before storming up next to her by the door. "You were with a guy."

"I'm entitled to have friends of any gender, Tsubasa. You should know." She was obviously referring to the fact when Tsubasa first met Christopher on one of Mikan's recitals. They had ended up having seats together and Chris couldn't stop his eyes from lingering where they shouldn't be.

Tsubasa ignored her last statement. "Oh, really? You think going out with guys is safe? Guys are dangerous, Mikan, especially to you. You're completely naïve and you know nothing outside of your petty little imaginations of sunshine and daisies!"

Mikan blinked once. Twice. Thrice. "What's the matter with you?" she finally blurted out.

"What's the matter with _you_?" he threw at her.

"What do you mean? I'm… me. Nothing's wrong with me."

"Tell that to someone with a mind you haven't fucked up with yet," Tsubasa jeered. "You lied to Yuka."

"I didn't lie!" Mikan gasped.

"You didn't exactly tell her the truth either," he pointed out. "We all thought you were with Hotaru or one of your friends, not someone who's got practically no life or future!"

"You never asked! And we're just hanging out!"

"Hanging out my bloody arse, Mikan. The guy wants to get in an innocent girl's pants with the bonus of money. That's it in a nutshell, unless you want me to be more graphic then be my guest."

"How dare y— he's not like that!"

"Of course he's not," Tsubasa sneered at her. "Tell me, is he the image of a prince who's got the modesty down pat? Does he treat you like a full-grown woman? What the hell do you know? How can you be bloody sure he's not after some action?"

"Because if he was," she almost yelled, "he would've done it ages ago. Why are you all judging him? He's not that kind of guy!"

"You don't know anything, you can't even—"

"I can stand on my own feet," she hissed at him. "You can't go around telling me what to do."

"You can only stand on your own two feet when you can make decisions for yourself." Tsubasa hissed back. "And just for the record, you only recently got your legs functioning. You were figuratively and literally independent to everyone else, Limping Princess! Is this how you repay your friends? Leaving them and going out with some guy no one really knows? Worrying everyone you know who knows about him shitless?"

"I _know_ him." She pressed.

"By how much? You know his house address? His phone number? Guess what, I also do. What makes you so damn special that you think you know him so well?"

Mikan couldn't help it anymore. This was Tsubasa— her brother! The supportive one who said she can befriend anyone! "Why are you being a hypocrite?" Her face was wet with tears that she didn't realize were already falling.

"Because you can't go off with someone who has a criminal record!" he finally said.

And immediately, her breath quickened.

Criminal record?

Natsume?

No!

Maybe she's only known him for about two months, and majority of that period, they were like a cat and a dog on par. If he had a criminal record, he would've told her. He would've pushed her away, just like they did in the movies…

_But you're not in a movie_, a voice from inside her said, _It's the real world, and instead of wrapping him around your little perky finger, he's got you in tangled knots_.

_NO_, she screamed at it, _He won't lie to me. He couldn't have. We're friends._

And that's what she told Tsubasa, and even if her brother didn't say it out loud to confirm it, she knew they both had the same thoughts: she wasn't defending Natsume anymore— she was comforting herself.

* * *

_**Metropolitan Police Service Department**_

"You'll come back for us, won't you?" Aoi whispered through her tears, grasping Natsume's face with her free hand. The other had the body of her baby around it. The social worker, Lissa, was sending her away and she couldn't understand why. "You'll do everything you can."

Natsume nodded, his eyes serious. He couldn't speak; it was still too much to gather at once. The earlier events came rushing back to him.

"_Natsume Hyuuga, you are under arrest."_

"_Wait, no, where are you taking him? Natsume!"_

"_You have the right to remain silent."_

"_Natsume! What are they doing?"_

"_Come with us calmly and no one gets hurt."_

"_Natsume!"_

"_Let's go, sweetie, we'll take you somewhere safe."_

"_But my brother—"_

"_He'll be taken away from you, honey. Now, let's go. Is this your baby?"_

"_What about Natsume?"_

"_Just take the bloody kids away, Lissa!"_

"_Wait, Natsume, no— Natsume!"_

"_Tsk. Maiming the police doesn't prettify your record, kid."_

"_Don't hurt him!"_

"_He's the one hurting everyone. Now go on with Lissa and we'll take you to foster care."_

He's the one hurting everyone, the man had said.

He's the one hurting everyone.

_He_'s the one hurting everyone.

He's _the _one hurting everyone.

He's the _one _hurting everyone.

He's the one _hurting _everyone.

He's the one hurting _everyone_.

_He's the one hurting everyone_.

And what bothered Natsume was not the fact that the police had this bloody idea to address him as a criminal.

It didn't bother him that he was going to face court under assaulting his father and possession of a deadly weapon.

It didn't faze him when the social workers informed him that they were taking his sister and his nephew away because he was 'dangerous'.

No, nothing mattered to him, because what pained the most was when the man said out loud what Natsume's been trying to push from his thoughts:

_He's the one hurting everyone_.

* * *

**A/N **This is the first time I've done this, and I am completely ashamed of it. I've read the email of each and every one of you, and I am honestly very pleased. However, school held me back and I couldn't squeeze my time in coming up with individual replies (I don't copy and paste my replies, I think that's rude; I try to be more personal when expressing my thanks). I only go online when I have schoolwork; otherwise, I use my phone so everything is limited. I stay in my room when I write so I couldn't connect on the internet, therefore there wouldn't be any distractions. I promise, though, that as soon as I get the time, I will diligently reply to each and every review and PM. It might take long, probably after our quarterly finals, so please, I ask for your patience. Thank you!

So I have an anonymous reader who commented on Mikan's and Tsubasa's dance session, and to be honest, I was stumped. I wish you weren't anonymous, I'd like to thank you properly!

_Uprising_ is about a silent protest. Given that Natsume and Mikan's relationship is a little non-existent and half-hallucinatory, I think that's the idea of this whole thing they're having. Also, according to Muse's lead vocalist, _"I sort of wanted to write a song that summed up that feeling like you've been done over by people you're supposed to trust. That's kind of where the song's coming from really."_

Check out **ew1282 **and **8coins **from YouTube. I love them— I listen to YouTube covers for some of the songs I use here. I think they're really different that the versions everyone's used to.


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